[Fast accordion. A polka beat — cheerful, bouncy, wrong. voice, bright, enthusiastic:]
"The polka! The dance of the people. The dance of the drunk. The dance of those who have given up on grace and surrendered to joy. Now… let's add some weight to that joy. Let's add some crunch."
[The accordion bends. Guitars crash in. The polka continues, faster.]
---
[VERSE 1]
Oom-pah-pah! Oom-pah-pah!
Stomp the floor! Break the jaw!
Left foot, right foot, stomp the bone!
Dance until you're all alone!
Oom-pah-pah! Oom-pah-pah!
Someone's gonna go too far!
Spin the circle! Clap your hands!
This is how we crush the bands!
Heel and toe! Heel and toe!
Feel the bones beneath you go!
Snap and crackle! Pop and grind!
This is the polka of the mind!
---
[HOOK]
POLKA OF THE PULVERIZED! POLKA OF THE DEAD!
STOMP THEM INTO NOTHING! STOMP THEM INTO BREAD!
OOMPAH! OOMPAH! FEEL THE BEAT!
DANCE UNTIL YOU LOSE YOUR FEET!
POLKA OF THE PULVERIZED! POLKA OF THE FLOOR!
DANCE UNTIL YOU CAN'T DANCE MORE!
OOMPAH! OOMPAH! ONE MORE TIME!
THIS IS THE POLKA. THIS IS THE RHYME.
---
[VERSE 2]
Oom-pah-pah! Oom-pah-pah!
Now the floor is full of blah!
Blood and bone and teeth and hair!
This is the polka! This is the dare!
Circle left! Circle right!
Dance until you see the light!
The light is red! The light is warm!
This is the polka of the storm!
Jump and stomp! Jump and stomp!
Feel the bodies start to romp!
They're not dancing. They're just falling.
This is the polka. This is the calling.
---
[BRIDGE]
[Tempo drops. A single, wheezing accordion note. The Choreographer's voice, almost giddy:]
"You ever stomp so hard the floor gave way? Ever feel the wood splinter beneath your feet and the bodies below welcome you home? That's the polka. That's the joy. That's the thing that makes you laugh while you're falling."
[The accordion screeches. The beat returns, faster.]
---
[VERSE 3]
Oom-pah-pah! Oom-pah-pah!
Now the ceiling's coming down!
Dance through rubble! Dance through fire!
This is the polka of the pyre!
Swing your partner! Swing your axe!
Watch the bodies leave the tracks!
Left foot, right foot, crush the dust!
This is the polka. This is trust.
Trust the beat. Trust the sound.
Trust the bodies underground.
They're still dancing. Can't you hear?
The polka's music. The polka's fear.
---
[FINAL HOOK]
POLKA OF THE PULVERIZED! POLKA OF THE DEAD!
STOMP THEM INTO NOTHING! STOMP THEM INTO BREAD!
OOMPAH! OOMPAH! FEEL THE CRACK!
DANCE UNTIL THERE'S NO GOING BACK!
POLKA OF THE PULVERIZED! POLKA OF THE FLOOR!
DANCE UNTIL YOU CAN'T DANCE MORE!
OOMPAH! OOMPAH! ONE LAST TIME!
THIS IS THE POLKA. THIS IS THE RHYME.
---
[OUTRO]
[The polka winds down. A single, cheerful accordion note. The Choreographer's voice, bright, breathless:]
"That was the polka. That was the stomp. That was the thing that makes the floor remember your name. Now. Check your shoes. If they're not red… you weren't dancing hard enough."
"Next dance. Next lesson. The ballroom never closes.”
AsheTheHyena
