Our coquette summer rides giddily and mightily into its final month on a pink pony, with all the pink flowers and frills and trimmings that this glorious season has promised, and largely delivered. To buoy the impending hints of fall, here’s a fun and frivolous distraction, perhaps less moody than the typical coquette offering, and certainly no less joyful for that. Cue our Midwest Princess Chappell…
And I heard that there’s a special placeWhere boys and girls can all be queens every single day…
In my daydreams and night-dreams, I can dance without the annoying tinge of a bothersome and aging back. I can sing without the heaviness of loss or lamentation. I can ride a pink pony into the summer dawn, bounding along shores of ocean and gliding over edges of sky. Summer is so largely imagined, so grandly envisioned. Summer… so much in my head.
I’m up and jaws are on the floorLovers in the bathroom and a line outside the doorBlacklights and a mirrored disco ballEvery night’s another reason why I left it all…
God, what have you done?You’re a pink pony girlAnd you dance at the clubOh mama, I’m just having funOn the stage in my heelsIt’s where I belong down at the Pink Pony Club
All sparkle of sun and sea, all shine of dew and drops, all summer sweetness and soft sighs. A melancholic meter keeps steady time – the hollow cadence of minutes and hours droning on beneath the welcome heat of the sun, already different than it was in June, already less. And so we dance, and we keep on dancing, and the pink pony prances…
I’m gonna keep on dancing at thePink Pony ClubI’m gonna keep on dancing down inWest HollywoodI’m gonna keep on dancing at thePink Pony Club, Pink Pony Club
