Thursday, 11 December 2008

Don't bother decoding.

4:36:21 PM Beauté: Yes sir, how may I help you?
4:36:53 PM Superchrist: 2 double veg burgers,1 coke and some fries
4:37:00 PM Superchrist: please
4:37:25 PM Beauté: Veg burgers? No can't do.
4:37:42 PM Superchrist: just pray to me baby
4:38:14 PM Beauté: .. Amen.
4:41:41 PM Beauté: Okay, now go climb the sky
4:42:02 PM Superchrist: im alredy on the subway to venus
4:42:48 PM Beauté: Pick me up? I'll wait at Marrianna's trench.
4:43:25 PM Superchrist: going via guernsy city at shoreside vale
4:44:15 PM Beauté: Do a sweet favour and buy me bubblegum toes.
4:44:47 PM Superchrist: alright honey if it removes your woes
4:44:57 PM Superchrist: but dont act like those other whores
4:45:12 PM Superchrist: they work at those petty lil stores
4:45:22 PM Superchrist: beside the bayline shores
4:45:33 PM Superchrist: pretty little diddy snores
4:46:44 PM Beauté: No, no, my child, the possible is impossible.
4:48:03 PM Superchrist: and vice versa
4:48:40 PM Beauté: Praise the lord, halleluiah
4:49:09 PM Superchrist: its hallelujah btw
4:49:20 PM Beauté: Jah Jah


Jet: Ugh. I feel so allergic to boys right now it's not even funny.
Tess: Why?
Jet: They're like foreign creatures invading our territory who don't even look or smell good.
Tess: Any specific foreign creature?
Jet: No, the whole testosteron race. Ofcourse, exceptions aren't forgotten.
Tess: Say more;
Jet: Pulse.


In a magnitude of a minute.

I am going. going. gone
I remember the way back
Now it's calling me back
Once I crawled to the otherside of the world.
I wish for under the trees and beyond the stars

I am an addict.
I remember nothing before that
Now I want new shoes
Once they were full and I tripped and fell.
I wish for two glass bottles and a shoe.

I am inner-national *strong american accent, pun intended too*
I remember concrete scenary and calling lights
Now London's my new fascination
Once I lived life l.u.x.u.r.y.
I wish for NYC, Paris and Rome!

I am Chewing.
I remember the betrayal
Now I still don't trust it.
Once I never trusted bubblegum.
I wish for pink, pink bubble gum.

I am Possible.
I remember my vague interest for it
Now it isn't.
Once the impossible was possible
I wish for frozen fire and boiling ice.

I am blind to green.
I remember something sow dead, someone sow seed.
Now I suffocate trees
Once I was suffocated by trees.
I wish for green.

Monday, 28 July 2008

Fish faux pas

As I swim through a vast ocean of rather pleasing (or displeasing) sights, I wonder to myself why the sea is devoid of a fairly forgotten necessity- Sunshine.

Is it because of the lack of light that the fish sport such blasphemous garbs?
Or maybe it’s the brine that seeped into their brains through their ears.
(notice how fish either don't have or have very little of those.)

Lost in a school of red headed trouts, I fin my way through with a false stitched tongue while I get nudged by smelly tricoloured sharks. Green stripes on orange, and brown scales clubbed with purple swim by with confidence and agility. Jostled by a pink spotted carp and a few fluorescent hakes breathing down my neck, it makes me spit the salty taste out.
Of course the bright yellow clown fish do what they’re famous for- Blind me.

On second thoughts, blinding clown fish can be forgiven for the disastrous sights they offer to hide from me, but when an eye piercing… *never mind*

Comes up for air.

Deep down under, where pretty corals and breathtaking inhabitants lie, happens to be one of natures most appreciated assets and I on the other hand, look at it as hideously ugly and a ghastly sight?

You're now invited to my mind of girls called fish while Marianna’s trench remains a Beaute.

Thursday, 10 July 2008

"You've got mail"

Red and stout, alone on the kerb,

His mood never screamed; Do not disturb.

Ever waiting, with black lips open,

Looking out for passerby's, men or women.

Hungry forever, he looked for a bite,

Alas, he ate something I write.

For years he stood and gobbled my thoughts.

Zilch as an output for inputs as lots.

No. 201, Archbald street,

"You've got mail" the postman bleat.

Drowned in the soup of curiosity,

I ran eagerly to my serendipity.

I stared at the envelope,

With optimism and hope,

*pinch* I couldn't be dreaming,

Even if I was I wouldn't try waking.

I finally drew myself to the glue,

Unaware of its origin from where or from who,

I grasped it tightly, a firm hold.

My impatient fingers ripped the fold.

Shell-shocked, I dropped it on the ground,

The sight of the sheet made me drown.

I rubbed my eyes and hastily blinked,

Reality bit me, not a word was inked.

Sunday, 6 April 2008

The memory of what has been and nevermore will be.

I'm done with school. I graduated. 14 years couldn't have gone faster.
Yesterday was a swell occasion- My graduation. A speech from the chief guest totally touched my heart. She quoted from a speech by Mary Schmich that was never delivered. Here are a few words.

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at the photos and recall how fabulous you really looked at the time. You are not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing gum. Real troubles are apt to blind-side you at 4 p.m. on an idle Tuesday.

Do one thing daily that scares you.


Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.


Remember compliments, forget insults.

Keep old love letters. Throw away old bank statements.


Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't know what they want to do with theirs.

Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself or berate yourself too much. Your choices are half chance, like everybody else's.


Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone.

Be nice to your siblings. They're the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. The older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.


Accept these certain truths:
Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And then you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Sunday, 17 February 2008

Star studded stamp paper?

The great leaders who now sit up in the galaxy as stars and planets as children say, are not the stars I refer to. Mahatma Gandhi and Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, true legends who currently have themselves on stamp paper, now seem to have competition with faces that should hide with humiliation at the thought of being placed in the same league as them.

The postal department is proposing to bring out ‘stars’ on stamps. Shahrukh Khan, Sachin Tendulkar and Sania Mirza are the desired few.

First it’s Mahatma Gandhi and his contemporaries, and before we know it, we skip a couple of decades worth of people, and decide to print these young achievers who look like toy cars in front of the former legends who appear as SUVs, placing them side by side.

Sorry, did I miss something, or are we forgetting to consider a few individuals who live/lived in the shadows of an India that shines so bright now? A few to name would be Amartya Sen, Baba Amte and MS Swaminathan.

Youth icons, famous and fan-followed, but are they worthy enough to be printed on paper that will be traveling world over representing our country?

Standing proud at Madame T’s having bagged a couple of awards such as the Padmavibhushan and Padmashree, still appears as a trail of minute ants to reaching the high set standard of being printed on stamp paper.

This whole process being aimed at philately doesn’t say much about our thinking. “Philately is being pushed on the young to promote awareness and national culture” says TOI.

Sania Mirza sitting on a stamp provides us with a great deal of culture? I’ve turned the imaginary stamp in all angles, and I still don’t see it.

Addicted to our taste of pungent curries, we Indians tend to add spice to everything that flies past us, now that list includes our post.

What next? Currency with the face of Aishwarya Rai Bachchan? To promote employment?

Friday, 15 February 2008

Love at levels

14th Feb, Marine Drive, Bombay

A posh villa set off the beach, where the cool breeze enters the bedroom waking her up with drops of sunshine on her face.

9 am (IST): She wakes up and gets into a warm, bubbled tub. *The phone rings*. She picks up the bath receiver.

Husband: Good morning my Honey bun, sugar plum, Happy Valentines Day! How beautiful is my love looking today? I love you baby from the bottom of my heart. I can’t wait to see you.

Wife: I love you too baby, wish you the same. *Hangs up*

Slips on a pair of suede Gucci pants and leaves the room smelling like Versace, flipping on her new diamante glares from Dior.

Walks down a wide spread staircase and sees: The living room decorated with white and red roses. Smiles as the butler leads her to the fine black Audi RS 6 parked the in porch outside.

A chauffer dressed in white, with golden buttons down his chest, drives her to the airport, while she stops on the way picking up a greeting card.

She boards the flight, and flashes her credit card to buy her husband an expensive tie from the on flight shopping card.

14th Feb, Champs Elyesse, Paris

2 pm (CET): Hugs and kisses her husband.

Husband: So glad you made it. I was so held up with work, I put a 100 Crore deal on waiting for you Love.

Wife: *Smiles superfluously*

He hands her a diamond studded brooch over the expensive lunch they have and she gives him the tie and card.

They fly to Tokyo and are right in time for dinner at a posh Sushi bar.
*Goodnight kisses* and Sweet goodbyes.


14th Feb, Bagepalli, Karnataka.

4 am: The flame burns bright as meek fumes of carbon monoxide fill the room, the lean cow is being milked and hot tea is being boiled, tantalizing the room with soothing fresh fragrance. She simultaneously packs dried jowar rotis for her husband as Tiffin.

Husband: Good morning, another tiring day approaches, hope all your love is being put into those rotis you’re rolling.

Wife: Yes my Love, come home early.

Husband smiles, gulps the tea and leaves.

The day goes by, the wife walks two villages to draw water as there is a drought in the village of Bagepalli. She faints on the way back; a few villagers help her get back home. The word is spread and reaches her husband in the fields.

As the sun goes down, the husband rushes home as the sick wife disappointingly awaits her husband with no water in her pots.

Husband: *leaning by the rugged mattress his wife lies on* I heard you fainted today, are you okay now?

Wife: Yes, I went to draw water, because I know you always come home thirsty.

Husband: I don’t need the water, when you speak such sweet words and make loving efforts to comfort me. That’s enough to quench my thirst.

Wife: *Smiles genuinely*

Husband: I got you this rose. 10,000 roses were exported this morning to the city. Something big is happening all I heard was; “A day to give roses” Thought you would like this.

Wife: Thank you. *Puts the rose in her hair as he compliments her.*

They feed each other a salty soup of vegetable peels with dried bread and contently get a good night sleep.


Love is the most beautiful thing that can happen to someone. It can be glamorized and expensive or it could just be an exchange of a few salty sips of soup between two lovers. Special words and actions do it all. It’s just how one makes it special for another, and how the other appreciates the special-ness.

Happy belated Valentines day!

Saturday, 9 February 2008

Brain Dump.

You've met me, its time you meet my alter ego. He’s Dave. He begged me to put up some of his thoughts. It might just not get across to you too well. Its just this thing we have going on.

Over to you Dave.

Mood: Fractured

Still. The land is still. Not a soul stirs. All is stoic. Lifeless is the trend. The dancing silence in the air plays a constant drill, jarring in my ears with the quiet insignificance.

My mind ponders along the coast of my sea-bedded thoughts, where motives play fierce waves that resemble those of running horses. The gush and force hit the softness in the sand leaving a trail of wet clumps and dry moulds.

Into the den, the hearth of my mind space sits a beaute of a silhouette in a vintage posture feeling the kindling fire fill the chamber of introspection.


The sullen media of breath was intervened by the constant distraction of a mental bulb.

blink on. blink off. blink on. blink off.

An idea so bright, incandescent, yet so inconsistent. The inconsistent consistency of my musings caused a strange reincarnation of a very significant insignificance.

blink on. blink off. blink on. blink off.

Wednesday, 6 February 2008

Daily delayed deadlines and other depressors

Bangalore: The city seems to be on full transformation. Cutting down of trees, to sprouting bridges, all happening simultaneously is a curse to busy Bangalore residers.

Although broken promises hurt the most, no north Bangalorean is unaware of it. The sights and sounds on the busiest road this side of town are more than an inconvenience to daily travelers.

The BBMP initiated a project at the Cauvery Theatre junction of a new-to-town structure called the ‘magic box underpass’ it is a device that has been applied previously in Malaysia. It’s cost effective and uses pre-casted blocks. Most importantly, the construction is not too time taking.

This 65m underpass was proposed with a head turning completion period of 72 hours. The anticipated date flew by in no time and now it’s almost gone into a month, still being incomplete. Everyday the date is extended. If not 72 hours, it would be nice to see it completed by 72 days at least.

The other day, I decided to go pay a visit to the Bob’s of Bangalore. Apart from the ongoing details of work at the construction site, a few other sights moved me to writing this post.

What I saw:

The Construction workers

Dressed in cheap shirts and trousers, and a few bare feet didn’t say much about how developed we are as a country. Working with and under heavy and dangerous machinery such as cranes not a single man at work out there had a construction hat on. What ever happened to the whole scene of yellow bobbing heads at work? This could be highly detrimental for these unequipped workers.

If the underpass is to be built within a tight interlude 72 hours, we can’t have only seven men accomplishing it. The sight was crowded. Not with construction workers but with policemen and city gazers.

Mobile phones: I really didn’t think I would ever see this happening. Out of the above mentioned 7 workers, 3 would be conversing on a mobile phone. Dhiru Bhai Ambani surely did a great job of providing literally everyone with a mobile phone, but everything has a catch to it remember?

The sprit of the onlookers

I happened to over hear a conversation between a cop and a passer-by and my heart raced with poignant patriotism but I decided to keep quiet and now I regret it.

Middle class worker: 72 hour long joke sir, don’t you think?

Cop: *laughs* I would be surprised if our Indians can plan it out in the span on 72 hours, let alone building it.

Middle Class worker: We’re truly unfit and lack skills, no one works properly, its pointless watching Indian blood at work, let’s just pray that after it’s done it doesn’t collapse over our bones.

Ouch. Then why claim, ‘East or west India is the best?’

Tuesday, 5 February 2008

A tough blue choice

2008 has something really exciting for the US of A. The presidential elections, an event that no other can supersede.

The Blues are in a fix and the Reds seem to lag behind.

The democrats have a choice of their all time favourite prejudices- Barack Obama, an African American and Hilary Clinton- A nightmare of a male chauvinist. Really left feeling ‘blue’ are we?

On the other side the Republican boys, John McCain, Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee seem to have created a lower league for themselves almost as if they’re allergic to newspapers already. Buck up boys.

Who will the Americans choose? A woman? Or a black? It’s a tough race, a hard competition. As for the current status on the polls, Hilary has her loyal support of white males, women and union members. As for Obama, he has managed to cut across race and gender and appeal young voters.

Obama, my personal favourite seems to have an upper hand over here. He’s young, influential and not really ‘black’. Sounds like rubbish to you? Well, it’s like this- His father is African and not black American and this disparity apparently makes the white Americans deal with them differently. However, in the end it’s all about what you see- Colour.

‘Obama, the first black president of the United States’ – A headline quite likely to be seen by this coming November.

With his concept of the ‘boomer’ generation (who sapped USA into wars at one time), he sculpts Hilary to be just ‘so yesterday’.

In this race v/s gender contest, is it going to be the ‘First’ lady returns or a ‘black’ to the ‘White’ House? Let’s wait and watch, until then, all hail irony!

Wednesday, 23 January 2008

L o v e . f i n d i n g s

Sometimes when you are in love.. or rather when love is in you, when it over takes all you have and you see no other but that one person. That same one person sits in your head all day- when you wake, when you step, when you dream. When every breath is being bound with that one person in your heart. Soon it begins to gain monotonous momentum but you’re so lost in it, you can’t even tell. When you can presumably begin to tell is when it all comes crashing down. Down, down... too much of a fall. Never like before, inducing pain slowly causing a breakdown of hydraulic forces. Drowning with thoughts, in an ocean so vast of instincts, perceptions and delusions.

Perceptions… the things I see, are they really what they are?

When you’re inebriated by love, you see nothing else, and believe the best of what a belief can be. It’s something so special. It’s food for the heart- Intoxicating, warm and highly invigorating. Analogous to a dollop of hot chocolate that stays on your tongue, slowly melting until all your senses are aroused, leaving the flavour to last forever.

Just as too much chocolate is bad for your bod, this imaginary love fluid your heart has been downing is no good if one fine day you wake to reality. However, the recipe for it is seasonal.

Love Fluid

Ingredients: A handful of unknown smiles with raison d'être
Perception in felicity- to taste.

Method: Cream the mixture slowly until smooth in texture, close eyes, dip finger in batter, lick, smile, and wonder why.

This love fluid that I have been feeding on, in simple decoded diction, is just an image crafted by one’s self. It’s an effortless mental picture of the person that resides in your head. It may or may not be in sync with the person. Usually it’s your own belief; it’s an image that you create for that one soul, who you limitlessly infuse with love.

It tastes quite depressing when your bubble suddenly bursts to reality; because you then realize how lost in love you are and that you’ve been loving that image you’ve created by unconsciously forgetting the veracity of the person you began to love. The image remains the same; rain, sun or snow; nothing can overpower this notion in your head.

The person then just becomes an entity, an entity that just gave the Utopian picture in your head life- real existence. Enthralling you from within, making you want to embrace every little detail so that you can never feel devoid of that aura created by that person image.

Did I love the wrong person? Was it really him that I loved?

Monday, 21 January 2008

Winter be gone.

Winter is winding up; it’s been a harsh one on our skin this time. I’d like to acknowledge my dear darling necessities for keeping my outsides supple as ever.

With the talk of dry, flaky and chapped exteriors, count me out on it.
My ever-loyal, skin loving, two things I absolutely can’t do without, have made me love them more this January!

Soft, glowing, radiant skin in winter is something only achievable with pan-caked layers? You’re getting it wrong; let me introduce you to the duo that works so well together.

Vaseline- Lip therapy with Aloe Vera and the Aloe Vera Body Butter from M&S, two that totally heed your skin.

The Vaseline Lip therapy- This economical pocket sized wonder, is a smooth yet thick textured jelly lured with a hint of aloe.
Just a dab a tad on your index and slide over your lips, before you can lick, you’d have forgotten what chapped lips are.

It works great as a base under lipstick, and as well as a lip gloss too, that takes care of your lips while soothing the dryness out of them.

It just says lip therapy on it, but there’s no harm in exploring a bit is there? Well let me fill you in on some tips;

-For your cuticles, it’s like a 5 minute manicure!

-If you’ve lost your eyebrow pencil, don’t be scared to smear some on!

-Try taking a cotton swab and using it as a base coat for mascara and you’re lashes won’t fall out before you know it!

Lastly, this is one of my secrets I’m willing to share; it’s on par with the Garnier Pimple Control Pen as well!

This Vaseline is not just another lip balm! Apart from the aloe in it, this Norwegian petroleum jelly is to swear by!

As for the body butter, it’s a natural green floral fragrance with cucumber and aloe vera blended with traditional water fruits and flowers. This luxurious body butter puts any other moisturizer out of business.

Tip: It works best on moist skin.

These two body basics, saviors and friends in need, do wonders and make you want to fall in love with yourself (again!) I think it’s the aloe that’s the complete turn on, or maybe it’s just me for being the biggest aloe fan.

Kissable lips and ‘googly woogly woosh’ cheeks, it’s the best that can happen to your husk.

If you still are in the era where diamonds are girls’ best friend, you haven’t met these smoothers yet. Oh and boys, don’t hesitate either, ‘cause I have already made some of my lads pick it up! Equip yourself for winter ‘08 and feel it to believe it!

My new Fetish. Rawr..

Disclaimer: The content that is being presented is purely only of imitation and not in favour of animal culling. Animal activists, go find someone else to cull.

The prints are on the prowl and looking wilder than ever. Whether its acknowledging a zebra or a big cat, the white and black, or the glowing orange, nothing speaks like a sexy animal print.

No doubt it looks better on a majestic tabby, or a coy looking mule, its harmless if we like to remember them once in a while is it?
When they're hibernating, (although only bears and co. hibernate) just to keep the animal spirit high, these prints are the sweetest aid to doing it.

When you're in for something 'wild', why go to a poorly maintained zoo to see the beasts suffering? Rather just open your wardrobe and strut something on yourself!

A friend of mine the other day, (who hates animal print) called it plagiarism. It was a funny thought at first, but really quite the truth. A tiger should have the all rights to go patent his/her print. But then again, born speechless, let alone claiming rights, they can't possibly even flash a thought.
Well, this is my bit to them -

Dear Animal,
Your appearance has influenced me so much and I love the way you look. You're the trend setter and I take no credit for it. *pinky promise*

Love, Someone who loves your look.

I know thats not going to reach them, but I'm sure they feel loved and looked up at when they see a superior race looking like them.

Don't have a wild side? Want one? Just wear one.

Wednesday, 16 January 2008

Caffeinated thoughts

As the season closes up, I decided on my last cup for the cold. Just the way I have it, no different. Sugarless and light.

Strangely so, the bitterness in this cup was never harsher on my palate.
My usual coffee, devoid of sugar that oddly tastes sweeter on another day, was biting bitter. The bitterness spread from my tongue and engulfed me with an aura that sensed the same.

I slowly sipped the hot toxic, feeling every bit of it, burn on my lip, the stub on my tongue, and a pre heat 180° C. Freezing this moment of the furnace down my gulp I let my thoughts run.

It didn’t make me stop. The heat just got to me. Stimulated me.

I always wondered why this stimulating bitter was so un-liked. Now, I felt it. Drawn away from the sugar this time, it was almost sympathetically similar to when a little child’s lollipop drops on to the floor and shatters in to splinters.

The craving rolled along, the caramelized desire felt me now.
Attention: Sweet tooth activation.

Something so simple, yet so complicated, a sugar-less coffee and a sugar-free life.

Well, as my mind clock ticks, it's not all sugar and spice and everything nice- Acceptance of things you can’t change, and no attempts to change things you can’t accept.

Change. We don't like it. We fear it. But we can't stop it from coming. We either adapt to change or we get left behind. It hurts to grow, everyone who tells you it doesn't is lying. But here's the truth, sometimes, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And sometimes, oh sometimes change is good. Sometimes, change is everything. - Greys Anatomy

As the coffee level drops, I preserve a memory of the cup as stained as my soul, something that will keep jabbing at my heart for sure, which I am made to reluctantly accept and wash out.

The bitter taste should soon drown in a few more sips of water. The water-works had begun well in advance, and I knew that there wouldn’t be a shortage.

Tuesday, 15 January 2008

Love me for when I'm here

Don't let me lose you,
I wonder what you'll do,
When you turn to your side,
And theres no one to abide.

Love me for when I'm here,
Just so close, just so near,
Love me in the moment,
I'm not here to be lent.
Love me for when I'm here,
Because its my only fear,
That when I'm gone,
I don't want to see you torn.

Pause that life, say stop.
Think again and put me on top,
I'm missing some loving I want,
Look at me and free me from daunt.

I'm scared for you darling,
The big bad world, can only sting,
And when you look out,
I don't want to ever see you in doubt.

Pause that life, say stop.
Think again and put me on top,
I'm missing some love I want,
Look at me and free me from daunt.

Its love now, or love never,
Instincts force me to stay forever,
Its true that I miss your smile,
Neither have I seen mine in a while.

Pause that life, say stop.
Think again and put me on top,
I'm missing some loving I want,
Look at me and free me from daunt.

Love me for when I'm here,
Just so close, just so near,
Love me in the moment,
I'm not here to be lent.
Love me for when I'm here,
Because its my only fear,
That when I'm gone,
I don't want to see you torn.

Unlock my smile,
Don't take a while,
Get here on time fast enough,
Smoothen me out, relieve the rough.

Pause that life, say stop.
Think again and put me on top,
I'm missing some loving I want,
Look at me and free me from daunt.