It’s that beat, that endless beat, which is causing me the most pain and how it scares me to think that for once I might actually want to live. Pulse Sate Thing… what if there was nothing to pulsate, insanity to want so much.
This Pulse Sate Thing, driving me insane
While usually so inane
As the want of sex
Like I so often suggest
A question of how love is made
Beat and breath an endless drain
Pursuit of glory, fortunate and fame
But could I be another or next
This Pulse Sate Thing
And this new hurt; this new pain
Don’t feel so good but worse the same
Never healthy, never best
Just wish it hurt a little less
Life and pain but who’s to blame
This Pulse Sate Thing
Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.
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