Every single time the radio plays Cheap Thrills,
My young old memory gets cold little chills-
I remember that night at the cute strange hill,
your style, your steps and the sound of whippoorwills.
But now, right now, I’m dancing without you.
You didn’t even care ’bout all them stares,
nor were you dancing there to find a millionaire;
just wanted to smile with anyone who dared
and show in open air the African flair
But now, right now, I’m singing without you.
I’m here in my room with nothing to do,
and then I remember what Buhe would do-
If life gets bored and routinely too,
you should play some music as loud as you could
and dance it all out like it’s your debut.
So Buhe now, right now, I’m dancing without you.