Backstage with the modern dancersnShe was stretching her nConfiguring her bodynWhile they were breathing, they were shoutingnShe was concentrating on her breathing nAnd didn't seem to mindnAs I sat on the couch nAnd tuned my guitarnPlayed a few cordsnLike roses growing their thornsnGetting ready to preformnWith bare feet and painted facesnThey took their placesnAnd shivering legs beneath colourful gownsnnAnd they were on the wooden floorsnThe sweat from their pores nI'm writing a listnOf song I can sing by myselfnBackstage with the modern dancersnWho feel it like I donLike I feel it, like I feel itnBackstage with the modern dancersnGetting ready to go onnShe showed me her spinnWith a beauty from withinnAnd all of these thingsnI don't think they should be releasedn