You used to kiss me like you could see the stardust that runs through my veins, and I used to look at you like you had galaxies hidden inside your bones.
Something electrifying happens when you step onto this floor. Everything fades away. Everything that you think matters no longer does. You become a giant. A rockstar. Thousands of people hold their breath to see you. To see what you’re going to do first. Suddenly age slips away. You’re no longer a senior in high school, or a junior in college, or an age out. You simply are the ensemble. You captivate an arena full of people you have never met. You put everything you have into seven minutes. Seven minutes that you have been pouring your soul into for six months. And suddenly its over. An entire season done. Friends, brothers and sisters you may never play with again. Maybe the emotions have set in already, maybe they won’t for a few hours. Or days. Or even a week. But they will. And you’ll always remember this floor. Those seven minutes. Your seven minutes.
I fell in love at the seaside
I handled my charm with time and slight of hand