All the poets and the part time singers
Always hang inside
Live music from a band plays a song called
Soul-psych-adeli-cide
The songs were a year long
And had been playing 4 months
When he walked in2 the place
No one seemed 2 care
An introverted distant look on most of their faces
Upon the mic repeating 2 words over and over again
Was this woman he had never noticed b4
He lost himself in the articulated manner
In which she said them
These 2 words
A little bit behind the beat
I mean just enough 2 turn u on
4 every time she said the words
Another 1 of his doubts were gone
Should he try 2 rap 2 her?
Should he stand and stare?
No one else was watching her
She didn't seem 2 care
So over and over she said the words
'Til he could take no more
He dragged her from the stage
And 2gether they ran thru the back door
In the alley over by the curb
He said, "Tell me what's ur name?"
She only said the words again
And it started 2 rain
2 words falling between the drops
And the moans of his condition
Holding someone is truly believing
There's joy in repetition
There's joy in repetition
There's joy in repetition
There's joy in repetition
There's joy in repetition
She said, "Love me"
"Love me"
That's what she said, she said
"Love me"
"Love me"
There's joy in repetition
|