This Life

This life.

This life has come in different forms and different function.

This life came without answers.

This life.

This life is a dancefloor.

It invites different people in and different people out.

This life has a god.

He plays music onto the floor.

This life.

This life is a dancefloor.

This life is a dancefloor.

This life is a dancefloor.

This life is on top of my feet.

A movement of one and the other.

This life came without answers.

It came with moments.

It came with truths.

It came with happiness and joys and sadness.

This life came with poems and songs.

This life came with umbrellas and rain.

This life came with forests and trees.

But this life.

This life is like a dancefloor.

We all follow the beats.

We all follow one god.

We all follow the person who tells us what to do.

The drop of a drum kick, snare and hi-hat.

This life.

This life should not be lived like semibreves but a full breath of fresh air.

This life.

This life is me.

This life is you.

This is my life.

This is this life.

This is every life.

This is my life.

This life is like a dancefloor.

Slow on the floor, take it easy, watch these skirts roll.

This life.

This life is like a dancefloor.

One god, one feet, one stand, one movement.

One multitude of truths.

One drink, one moment, one eye one look.

This life.

This life is amazing.

This life is like a dancefloor.