Well isn’t this charming! It feels as if I’m sat in a warm living room, lights dimmed as I sprawl across a comfortable chair, sipping away at an unusually empty glass of wine. Such charm as charisma is wooing me superbly and I feel utterly drawn in by Dancing Years and their brand of emotionally charged music.
I feel as though I’m recalling a night of elegant dancing as warm hearts embrace and I am lifted into a fantasy world in which I can be as happy as Cinderella, at the ball, not when she was in rags of course. I’ve been swept off my feet by an enchanting voice, backed up by a warm, welcoming band that even uses violins to pull me closer and make my eyes go all glossy like in those movies I’ve seen and dreamed about being in. The feeling is mellow, there’s no tension and all is indeed calm on the Western front. As I gaze optimistically at my surroundings, I feel safe. I’m in a place where all is well and the music in my ears is playing a more than gracious host.
Yet my princess fantasy must come to an end, as the song fades away I open my eyes and find myself sat at home, crouched over a laptop. The flowing ballgown gone now, replaced by jeans and a cheap H&M t-shirt. Oh, and I’m a bloke again. Never mind, the football will be on soon…
We’ll always have that dance.