The story behind this song
The cane gets hooked on the chair the second the horns come in. Ninety years old — he learned to dance when the radio was furniture, held her through the hard years on a kitchen floor, and outlived two careers and a war he never mentions and every prediction about slowing down. The band strikes up and suddenly he's seventeen again.
He taught the grandkids the box step with a dish towel for a partner, counting one-two-three until they had it; now they spin past him on the boards he broke in, clapping out the rhythm of his years. The doctors said slow down. He said the music's still playing. For the grandparent at ninety — first one on the floor, last to let it close, the floor still clearing for him.
Lyrics
The horns are calling you
Held her through the hard years on a kitchen floor
Ninety springs, two careers, a war you never mention
And the band strikes up — and you're seventeen again
You said, son, the music's still playing
First one on the floor and the last to let it close
The whole long century couldn't slow those shoes
Ninety and still dancing
And the floor still clears for you
Counted one-two-three until they had it right
Now they're spinning past you on the boards you broke in
Clapping out the rhythm of your years
You said, son, the music's still playing
First one on the floor and the last to let it close
The whole long century couldn't slow those shoes
Ninety and still dancing
And the floor still clears for you
Some with her, some after — and you kept the music on
That's the lesson, isn't it?
Keep the music on
First one on the floor and the last to let it close
The whole long century couldn't slow those shoes
Ninety and still dancing
And the floor still clears for you
The birthday boy's not done
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