A merry-go-round of epic proportions,
keeping afloat through sheer use of motion.
In devotion, they stay true to form,
and spin in madness, as is the norm-
Winding back and forth like tides of the ocean.

Who is to say we should stop the quotient?
Dividing in wholes to keep the flow, then.
Keeping together even as it's torn;
Wild is the reeling rondo.

Who is to say we should stop them?
Twirling until lost in REM.
Should we feel forlorn,
with our spiraled instincts gone?
Hold still and count to ten, we'll spin again.
Wild is our reeling rondo!