she is benediction 
she is addicted to thee 
she is the root connection 
she is connecting with he 

here I go and I don't know why 
I fell so ceaselessly 
could it be he's taking over me... 

I'm dancing barefoot 
heading for a spin 
some strange music draws me in 
makes [bad word] on like some heroin/e 

she is sublimation 
she is the essence of thee 
she is concentrating on 
he, who is chosen by she 

here I go and I don't know why 
I spin so ceaselessly,
could it be he's taking over me...

 [bad word]  

she is re-creation 
she, intoxicated by thee 
she has the slow sensation that 
he is levitating with she ... 

here I go and I don't know why, 
I spin so ceaselessly, 
'til I lose my sense of gravity... 

 [bad word]  

(oh god I fell for you ...) 

the plot of our life sweats in the dark like a face 
the mystery of childbirth, of childhood itself 
grave visitations 
what is it that calls to us? 
why must we pray screaming? 
why must not death be redefined? 
we shut our eyes we stretch out our arms 
and whirl on a pane of glass 
an afixiation a fix on anything the line of life the limb of a tree 
the hands of he and the promise that s/he is blessed among women.