In the dance of stars, a whispering dream,
Where galaxies sway in celestial stream.
A tale of Pygmalion, the sculptor's delight,
Breathing life into marble, a magical rite.
His creation, a figure so grand,
Yet lifeless it stood, in the sculptor's hand,
But with each stroke, he whispered his dream,
To breathe in life, to make it gleam.
For in the whispers of hope, there lies a spell,
That turns the ordinary into something swell,
With every word of praise, a spark ignites,
In the darkest of nights, the soul takes flight.
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will see something fantastic
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will be happy (happy)
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will see something fantastic
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will be happy (happy)
As the sculptor praised, with all his might,
His creation stirred, bathed in starlight,
For the Pygmalion effect, it holds true,
Belief in oneself can work wonders, too.
His creation, a figure so grand,
Yet lifeless it stood, in the sculptor's hand,
But with each stroke, he whispered his dream,
To breathe in life, to make it gleam.
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will see something fantastic
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will be happy (happy)
So let the praises rain down like confetti,
Igniting flames in the hearts of the ready,
For in the dance of life, we have a chance,
To shine bright, don't doubt it, just do it
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will see something fantastic
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will be happy (happy)
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will see something fantastic
Let me dance (dance) praise for me
You will be happy (happy)
Let me dance (dance)
Let me dance (dance)
Let me dance (dance)
Let me dance (dance)
Let me dance (dance)
Let me dance (dance)