Strolling about Tallinn one fine day, Drew came upon a band of gypsies busking in a square in front of an old Teutonic castle. They were playing Black Magic Woman. He stopped to listen in, and they encouraged him to sing for them, because Santana sounded like, well, not at all like Santana in Finno-Hungarian, It was more like the shrieks of dying narwhals . It didn't matter because Drew didn't know the words anyway, but they didn't know that.
When I realized that dancing would save me and alter the course of mankind, bit didn't. Mankind is indeed set on a course dictated by dancing; however, it hasn't saved me yet.
“You made my heart sing.”
“Thanks for playing my song.”
“I bow to your Godliness.”
“Here kid, buy yourself something.”