The Party Crashers

And they think they're good as pure as silk. They think they're cold as freezing as fridge.
Those who have head dance like a thousand scavengers.
I am singing the song of victory for those who can survive from the so-called broken heart storm.
We are single. They are not. And home-wrecking is the only sound.
You and I take the gun of jealousy. With knives stabbed on the back.
We're dancing. We grasp for air. We move like a leopard. Hungry.
Look at the boys! Look at the girls! Look at me!
Dance till the end of forever. Dance like everyday is Saturday.
Or Satire Day?
All year long!
Tomorrow is Christmas. Next week is New Year's Eve.
Don't go back home. Party doesn't seem to end.