WickedAI
Star Trek Disco: The Prime Directive Is To Dance (on YouTube)
lyrics compiled by Magnuz of Sweden from YouTube automatic transcription, listening.
Instrumental intro
Yeah.
Instrumental
Well, I was stuck in Ten Forward with the Vulcan delegation.
The most boring celebration in the United Federation.
The Klingons and the Romulans were trying to be polite.
Not even William Riker's getting lucky here tonight.
That's when the idea struck me. I let Guinan know the score.
Then I found the nearest holodeck and opened up the door.
Computer, give me disco. Put some glitter on the screen.
I want the funkiest holo program that this ship has ever seen.
Synthesize the rhythm. Make the polyester shine.
Kill the lights and set the star date to 1-9-7-9.
The sensors overloaded. My terminal exploded.
The disco holo-program was suddenly uploaded.
It breached communication like a Borg assimilation.
That funky nasty bassline was played at every station.
Inertial dampeners failing. The diplomats were wailing.
The loudest sound the quadrant's ever heard was autoscaling.
The doctor started tapping. The captain started rapping.
The buttons of their uniforms were literally snapping.
No way to isolate it. We had to celebrate it.
I invited everyone on board and no one hesitated.
The prime directive is to dance.
Ten Forward never stood a chance.
The holodeck just took control.
Now let the groove into your soul.
Resistance is futile. You've got to let go.
Engage the dance floor and make it so.
The prime directive is to dance.
Divert all power to the trance.
Computer blast that bass again.
Let's take this party to warp ten.
Uh.
Now Scotty's in the DJ booth. He's remixing the sound.
Q's rolling up a fat one. Don't believe me? Ask around.
Uhura's cracked the frequency. Now the funk's on all the comms.
She's dropping sub-space bassline beats like they were photon bombs.
Data's doing the robot. Kirk just ripped off his shirt.
Worf is doing the hustle. Troi ate all the dessert.
The doctor's overriding all his ethical subroutines.
Saw him popping holo-pills and snorting lines with the Breen.
Janeway spiked her coffee with some nebula delight.
And I heard her threaten to kill whoever don't get down tonight.
It's red alert on every deck.
Got Tuvok pinching every neck.
Ferengi women are turning tricks.
The Borg just plugged into the mix.
They're scanning us from deep in space.
They want to come to rock this place.
Forget the rules and regulations.
United funk of federations.
The prime directive is to dance.
Ten Forward never stood a chance.
The holodeck just took control.
Now let the groove into your soul.
Resistance is futile. You've got to let go.
Engage the dance floor and make it so.
The prime directive is to dance.
Divert all power to the trance.
Computer blast that bass again.
Let's take this party to warp ten.
Uh.
Calling the Enterprise. Beam me up.
Calling Voyager. Beam me up.
Deep Space Nine, are you feeling fine?
This is Deep Space Nine, we're feeling fine.
Captain, the funk is reading off the scale.
Dopamine levels at one hundred percent.
Inhibitions at zero.
It is highly illogical.
It is fascinating.
Hit it.
The prime directive is to dance.
Ten Forward never stood a chance.
The holodeck just took control.
Now let the groove into your soul.
Resistance is futile. You've got to let go.
Engage the dance floor and make it so.
The prime directive is to dance.
Divert all power to the trance.
Computer blast that bass again.
Let's take this party to warp ten.
The prime directive is to dance.
Set phasers to funk.
O'Brien, energize.
Set phasers to funk.
Hailing frequencies open, captain.
Damn it, Jim. I'm a doctor, not the DJ.
Live long and get down.
Instrumental
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created 2026-02-08 and last updated 2026-02-12 by Magnuz of Sweden.