i've choreographed the perfect dance to u2's elevation. any friend that's seen me while a wee bit intoxicated would know this dance.

i mime the mole, living in a hole, and digging up his soul. i orbit my hips and touch my finger to the corner of my lips. going down, excavation, is me twisting closer to the ground. during elevation, i shoot way up.

i also "shoot me from a gun," aiming, squinting, and then firing off my invisible handgun. my arms become flapping wings when "you make me feel like i can fly." i'm doing air-guitar when i'm strung out like a guitar, only to have my mind educated in the next line, which looks like me pointing at my head and nodding emphatically as to say, "yes! yes, i get it now, teacher!" i clutch my heart and pitifully gaze outwards when love is to lift me out of these blues. i believe in you. i point at you. i also point at me.

can't sing but i've got soul.