Moving reflection.

Move like grey skies
You are the rite of movement
Its reasoning made lucid and cool
I know it's no improvement
When you move, I move
You're less Polunin leaping
Or Fred Astaire in sequins
Honey, you, you're Atlas in his sleeping

And when you move, I'm moved
Move like a bird of paradise
Move like an odd sight come out at night
Move me, baby
Shake like the bough of a willow tree
You do it naturally
Move me, 
So move me, 

Like you've nothin' left to lose
And nothin' to prove
Move me,
So move me, 
Shake like the bough of a willow tree
You do it naturally
Move me
Like you've nothin' left to prove
And nothin' to lose
Move me,