Make This Beat Behave

I've had a few, but not too many, I'd rather catch another kind of high tonight. Close my eyes and let the music move my body outside itself. Now and then I catch the breeze from the fans above, just enough to feel but not enough to keep the sweat from running down the back of my neck prompting me to use my fingers as a temporary hair piece. It all flows together like Van Gogh, the fan, the sweat, hair, fingers. The dance floor is all that's left and the rest of the painting melts around my very soul while I bleed into the mix of the music.

That is, until the DJ lost it.

The mix was all wrong, the colors didn't work. Suddenly, my master piece was melting before my ears. Little by little my beauty was being stolen by a thief with two turn tables and no sense of heart. No No No. You're murdering those tracks, and yet you're still not killing 'em. You're just slowly suffocating them by providing an insufficient amount of oxygen, those songs don't breath together. My beautiful painting, my blissful dance, you are being taken and I feel you slipping from my grasp, but then out of no where..there is hope.

What do I hear?

Erykah, Fugees, Jurassic5 flowing evenly and poetically together as one.

Here I am bliss, my Van Gogh forming once again.

That is, until the DJ lost it....

Someone Please: Make This Beat Behave.