Carrying me through time,
Your calm tempo replacing the seconds,
Mundane becomes sublime,
The sounds of the street organize themselves,
Like they were meant to be,
Oh, would that all the world just understood,
That in the cacophony's harmony,
But the melody comes from in not out,
The peace must be in you,
Only then you see the dance of others,
And so, too, their world view,
Is it the same?
But it don't mean a thing,
Once everyone's dancing to their own beat,
All your body will wish to do is sing.
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