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