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Just a dot on a map,
a spot where your finger stops
when you close your eyes
and spin your own private world.
Such a big patch of grass.
A flag unfurls
and the marching bands still marches on.
You spin your legs and twirl your baton.
Good girl, dancing girl.
Good girl, dancing girl.
Just a point in time,
a moment where a line
intersects a line
somewhere in your mind.
Dad puts on his jacket,
tells you to hurry up 'cause the show starts at 9.
You got the lead in the Nutcracker Suite.
Good girl, dancing girl.
Good girl, dancing girl.
chorus:
Your dreams curled up and
went to sleep inside of you,
a slumber so deep
only the kiss of a prince could revive you.
If only he could recognize you dancing girl.
Oh, dancing girl.
Oh, dancing girl.
Open up your eyes.
Pull yourself from those other places,
those other times.
Up come the lights.
You look upon those stony faces,
those hungry eyes.
You step your steps,
take off your dress.
Good girl, dancing girl.
Good girl, dancing girl.
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