The dancing skeleton

I was walking home one night much the worst for wine
The evening had been fruitless such a waste of precious time
I saw something in the shadows moving to the beat
He looked so tall and lanky, what rhythm in those feet
The wine had made me see things my head began to spin
A dancing skeleton in Northolt I'm sure there's no such thing
He seemed to know the footwork to almost every dance
I bet ole Fred Astair wouldn't stand a chance
He said he once lived in Ruislip I've been dead many a year
I slipped and broke my neck while sipping on a beer
They let me out on Sundays I like to strut my stuff
I dig this modern music though to break dance is quite tough
I looked down at my bottle that vintage is not so good
A dancing skeleton in deed my stomach needs some food
When I woke the next morning that dream was on my mind
Did I really see what I saw, red wine can be unkind
As I peeped out through my window, just as the day began
Whose that on the corner, top hat and cane in hand
Is it that dancing skeleton with a smile upon his face
When I looked again I couldn't see a trace
Am I going crazy or had I lost my mind
Like a genie in a bottle that dreaded red, red wine.