The irony yet the beauty, the meaningless of it all,
One endless show - the ups, the downs, the rise and the fall.
So ecstatic so joyous, how has it remained hidden for so long,
It can be found in the dead of the night, in sweeping the floor or in the lovers song.
The longing – so tremendous it becomes,
Bit by bit makes me to itself succumb.
The bending though painful, so joyous, ready to bend a thousand times more,
Take me with you, blow me away, I’m ready to soar.