There's a special little door

At the bottom of our street

That only can be opened

By those with dancing feet

There's an energy in the mind that

Pulls a being through hyperspace

To that ethereal destination,

 Fat Sam's Dancing Place.

Fat Sam's very presence

Beams down from the wall

His holographic forms flow

Through the whole dance hall.

The first time you see him

To the human mind it seems

He is the very embodiment

Of strange fantastic dreams,

For Fat Sam is an energy formed

By merging of time and space

Crossing multiple dimensions

To host his dancing place.

And his very presence urges

Beings to take the chance

Of expiring from the energy 

Of Fat Sam's enticing dance.

It's an expansion of experience

To makes the senses pulse and warm

As rhythmic movements carry a being

Back and through his shimmering form.

Sheer satisfaction 

Is the only measure 

 the feelings of joy

The sense of total pleasure.

 Fat Sam is a mystery but

One neither knows or cares

The truth of his essence,

 If he is even really there:

Is it just a franchise

To inspire and entice all

To the thrill and the addiction

Of that eternal dancing hall.

But Fat Sam thrives

For dancers to meet

Out there in hyperspace

From the bottom of our street.