Sixty-five beats per minute
and you catch my eye
as I will you to stop,
you walk right on by.
Eighty-two beats per minute
as you stop in your tracks
and flip your hair gently
as it flows down your back.
Ninety-nine beats per minute
as your eye catches mine;
be still, my heart,
this feeling is divine.
One hundred and twenty beats per minute
and you make your way to me;
I’m glued right to this spot,
waiting for what will be.
One hundred and forty-three beats per minute,
your husky voice fills my ears
and in one beat that lasts a minute
I know you are the one I’ve wanted for years.
Autumn Siders 