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The first of the month
Brings back the notion
Of a big round white dance hall
And a cool summer night
Red cherry faces set black shoes in motion
To the oom-pa-pa rhythm of a German delight

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
'Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

A taught little bald man
Like a German war hero
With buxom matron
Through a quick John Paul Jones
Drapes of crepe paper
A ball made of mirrors
Cast shiny reflections on a brass slide trombone

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
'Took my hand and proved I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song
The man was still dancing
With his phantom partner
When the band had quit playing
At the evening's end
Made me feel lucky that I had a partner
To teach me the dance steps
And come back again

I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
'Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
'Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

The first of the month
Brings back the notion
Of a big round white dance hall
And a cool summer night...

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Songwriter: Robert Earl Keen