O, Isadora, Beware the Neck Scarves!

Beautifully sinister meanderings

Trace the course of my dance

Like the painful and ancient

Mississippi going where it goes

Against all odds and every wish

Wayward to the Gulf of Mexico

Soiled and stained and bleeding

Is what I know we say of swing
Is what I shimmy to the left 

Sidle right like a wounded bird

Trying to fly only to be caught

Neck-first hell-bound

Country highways always cut

These dreams too short 

They yank these dreams down