Magnetically moved along by a force not forced to feel
Or analyze where my heart or mind might wish to go.
This natural flow keeps me from swaying, keeps me from
Straying too far from this Truth - pulls me back to center.
The beat, beat, ba-beat - ba-beat is mesmerizing; it's
Energizing, and the End is never the End; we only
Transcend and cease to believe that anything's ever over;
Red Rover, Red Rover, we keep daring each other over.

Morphing into mirrors, my eyes stare back from you
And right through the illusion of another I call myself.
It's an unrealization of a segregated ego nation, a
Fractalization of me, it, I and you. What can WE do?
Gotta move, gotta change, gottta grow, gotta let go
Of the fear, of the gear, of the steering wheel of control;
Belief in imperfection is what we use for our protection; it's an
Infection of misconception; Ashes to ashes we all fall down.

Vibrating potions propel my emotions and spin my focus
In new directions, up, up, and away from the hocus pocus
Of the bogus notion of ownership or the validity of whatever's
On the tip of my tongue, the breath in my lungs, or the rungs
Of the ladder I make myself climb, forever a step behind,
The paradise I think I'll find outside of what's already mine.
So I slow down, stop, and rewind my mind. she loves me,
She loves me not, she loves me, she loves. she loves.

Copyright 2001 - Pamela R. Heeke