One, two, three, four, one, two three-
One, two, three, four, we all start.
Now let your feet slam on misery
and your being vibrate from the cheers.

Now go, love, succumb to the animal
begging to move and shake of the inertia
seeping through your head until the
momentum makes you drop dead.

And let yourself be swayed by the wind
and the thunder coming from worn, thinned
skin produced by a pair of calloused hands
that each time beat harder so their palms go raw.

And close your eyes and nod along to
any pointless noise you could find until all
traces of hyperthymesiac sorrows flow away
from your fingertips for the ground to hold onto for you.

And during this time you're allowed to be pretentious,
allowed to believe that you are more than this,
allowed to believe that you have the control to let go,
allowed to believe that you are anything more than this beat.

Oh, and love, before the brief minutes of silence end,
remember to spin around until you lose it all and drop
as the last moments seep through, just to make sure
your life doesn't end up doing the same.

One, two, three, four, one, two, three-
One, two, three, four, we all stop.
And the song ends, and we all become nothing
as we pick ourselves up for the floor.