White periwig

The ballroom has opened,
we come here tonight,
dressed up like a peacock for mating season.
We arrive in a carriage
that is of a noble court,
the doorman lets us in
after brief visit of our faces.
Inside the show prepares,
or it already runs,
dancing minuet and drinking wine,
meat and drink at its best,
the newest craze in music and culture,
and some already fumble in the back.
The deejay puts his record on
and orders the audience to turn this night into day,
electronic sounds clang from the speaker
which makes the nobles spin around.

The night the ballroom building doesn't stand still,
splendid light, gaudy clientele, the selected society,
listening to sounds of the newest courtly composer,
dancing the newest dance.
The noblemen toast to themselves,
like there is no other day,
the noblewomen look for a good match
while they do the same.
The music keeps on playing
like there is no day and night,
when the sun rises up,
they will stroll home drunk.