Cha-cha-cha

I want nothing more
This stage, this trap is set
The whistle bored
Please put down you bets
Sometimes the walls will bend
But we won't make our minds' decisions then

He's sitting up and talking in his sleep
Skim the top before this gets too deep

I want nothing less
The floor, the tabletops
They must confess
You wore the finest crop
Sometimes the sea will part
But I won't change my mind before season's start

You're throwing off the covers, we'll be found
Pull the top before we hit the ground