Pulse through my insides 

Travel in milliseconds

I can feel her heart race 

And I can feel it slow,

All depedent on the

Notes that beat hard

From my metal heart.

This is why I am here,

why she is still here.

A hand wraps around me,

Pressing against my side

The notes pound more,

what does she think of?

Be free, live loud.

- a love letter from an ipod.