Lose YourselfFolks ask me how I got here; I tell 'em I don't know
Success isn't easy; I just get into the zone.
I pick up a pencil; sometimes it's a pen
Next thing I know I'm well into the Zen.
I know how it sounds; it's all pretty crazy
But when I think back it get's kinda hazy.
When I look at that blank piece of paper in front of me
Staring me down like some sort of enemy.
I mark up the paper until it gets filled
Next thing I know the monster is killed.
Sleighed with the lead and the spirit I've willed
Cashing in for the take with that feeling fulfilled.
Each piece of paper; a bullet of lead
Into the beast; it's nothing I dread.
Losing myself in a moment sublime
Next thing I know; gone is the time.
Not sure how it happens; a hypnotic state
Perhaps I have found that which is my fate.
Success is a calling; for that I am sure
That's to be heard of a soul in its pure.
So when time disappears and it isn't a chore
Found is the ecstasy for all to adore.
And when you look back and question your find
Ask yourself now your own state of mind.
And if you can't answer it's irrelevant you see
You have found that which you were meant to be.
. . . Lose Yourself . . .
maltesemermaid 41-45, F 7 Responses 5 Dec 15, 2012