Insiders - they told me "Bow your head and do this slowly" Their hands pulled words from stories thrown to halves by flame and heresay.
The shaking rhythm, carving silhouettes: allowed or wanting. Counter-tones from the other side where the other half of tales are tried I saw their eyes, those frightened boys as ritual rose above our voices.
I've done for you, I've done for you.
Our dancing is required and feet will bleed when bones are tired, our two circles, pink and blue will move in opposites and rules, and oh their voices, should we stray from paths as smooth and cold as clay say:
I've done for you, I've done for you. I've done for you, I've done for you.