Adrenaline and Sex: Bhakti at Full Voltage

 

 

 

Bhakti has been tamed.
It’s been dressed up in soft pastels, put in a quiet corner, taught to whisper nice prayers and fold its hands.
But that’s not the bhakti the Goddess wants.

She does not want polite candles and half-hearted hymns.
She wants the bhakta’s veins on fire.
She wants the kind of devotion that makes you shake, sweat, scream Her name —
the kind that rips you open until you are nothing but pulse and breath and surrender.

Adrenalize is that kind of bhakti.
It is not about being calm and good — it is about burning alive in Her presence.
Maria Brink’s voice here is not a pop-star plea — it is a temple shout:
“Make me feel like a God — music, love, and sex.”

This is the Kaula vision in its purest form:
every sense turned sacred, every pleasure made into prayer,
every rush of blood into an offering at Her feet.

This song is not for the faint-hearted.
It is for those ready to live before they die,
to turn their whole body into a mantra,
to let the Goddess break them, flood them, remake them —
right here, right now.

Verse 1

 

Come a little bit closer
Before we begin
Let me tell you how I want it
And exactly what I need
I'm here for one drug
I'm only here for one thing
So come on and tell me
Can you fly like you're free?

 

"Come a little bit closer"
This is Devi’s first whisper — intimate, commanding.
She does not stay at a distance. She pulls you in, right to the edge where safety ends.

"Before we begin"
This is the threshold moment — the pause before the plunge.
She is saying: Once we start, there is no turning back.

"Let me tell you how I want it / And exactly what I need"
Here She claims Her desire with no apology.
This is the Divine Feminine unashamed of appetite,
naming what She wants with precision and daring you to meet Her there.

"I'm here for one drug / I'm only here for one thing"
This is Her uncompromising clarity — She is not here to play at half-measures.
The “drug” is life at full voltage — ecstasy, dissolution, the surge that breaks the walls of the small self.

"So come on and tell me / Can you fly like you're free?"
The verse ends with a challenge.
Devi asks: Can you rise into this? Can you shed your fear, your caution, your hesitation — and fly with Me?
It is not a casual question. It is the price of entry.

This first verse is Her invitation — and Her test.
Step closer, name your desire, risk everything — or stay behind and watch life pass by.

 

Pre-Chorus

 

'Cause I need to feel
Yeah, I need to say

 

"’Cause I need to feel"
This is the cry at the heart of the song.
Devi is not asking for abstract philosophy — She wants experience, sensation, blood and breath.
It is the refusal to live numb.

"Yeah, I need to say"
This is expression as liberation.
She will not be silent. She will speak the desire out loud,
because desire that is voiced becomes invocation.

Chorus

 

I must confess I'm addicted to this
Shove your kiss straight through my chest
I can't deny, I'd die without this
Make me feel like a God
Music, love, and sex
(Adrenalize me)

I crave excess, turning wine into sweat
Dripping down my neck
I can't deny, I'd die without this
Make me feel like a God
Adrenaline and sex

 

"I must confess I'm addicted to this"
This is not weakness — it is worship.
Addiction here is longing so fierce it becomes bhakti.
She is confessing that this current is Her only truth.

"Shove your kiss straight through my chest"
Here the language turns violent, sacrificial.
She is not asking for a gentle touch —
She is asking to be pierced, to have the heart broken open.
This is initiation through ecstasy.

"I can't deny, I'd die without this"
There is no hedging here.
This experience is not optional — it is life itself.
Without it, existence would be gray, mechanical, dead.

"Make me feel like a God / Music, love, and sex"
This is the mantra of Kaula Tantra in one line.
To turn every sense, every pulse, every act of love into a sacrament
until you no longer feel separate from the Divine.

"(Adrenalize me)"
The invocation — the command.
Not passive, not pleading: Do it now. Flood me. Ignite me.

"I crave excess, turning wine into sweat / Dripping down my neck"
This is sacred intoxication — not for numbness but for awakening.
She wants the wine to become heat, to become offering,
to turn the body into a temple glistening with devotion.

"I can't deny, I'd die without this"
The repetition seals the vow.
This is not a fling — it is a lifeline.

"Make me feel like a God / Adrenaline and sex"
The final line of the chorus brings the current into the body.
Adrenaline and sex — the twin surges of fear and ecstasy —
are not distractions here but doorways to the Divine.

This chorus is not just desire — it is invocation.
It is a hymn for the body, a call to turn every cell into flame.

 

Verse 2

 

Get a little bit higher
So we can fall 'til we bleed
Push a little bit harder
Pull me into the speed
So tell me, can you feel this?
Come into my dream
Are you ready to awaken?
Are you ready to feed?

 

"Get a little bit higher"
This is not about escapism — it is about altitude.
Devi calls you to rise, to step out of the ordinary, to see from above.

"So we can fall 'til we bleed"
And then She flips it — the rise is only to make the fall sweeter, deeper.
This is the paradox of Tantra: you ascend only to fall back into the body, into the blood, into the raw truth of being.

"Push a little bit harder"
This is tapas — the heat that purifies.
Devi asks for effort, for the breaking of limits.
No laziness will survive this current.

"Pull me into the speed"
She does not merely want passion — She wants velocity.
This is the rush that strips away hesitation and control,
leaving you naked in the wind.

"So tell me, can you feel this?"
This is the test — if you cannot feel, you cannot stay.
This path is for the ones willing to be seared awake.

"Come into my dream"
She offers entry into Her world — a dream, but not an illusion.
This is the inner temple, the place where ecstasy and death meet.

"Are you ready to awaken?"
Here the language turns initiatory.
This is the crux: to feel this fully is to wake up.
And waking up means you will never again be who you were.

"Are you ready to feed?"
The final line is feral — hungry.
This is Devi as the one who devours and is devoured.
To feed here means to drink life down to the dregs, to let desire itself become offering.

Verse 2 escalates the entire song —
what began as invitation has now become ritual.
The stakes are higher, the current stronger,
and She is asking if you are willing to bleed for the awakening you say you want.

 

Bridge

 

We have to live before we die
We were born to live before we die
Don't you wanna live before you die?
Let me see you live before you die

(Right here, right now) Adrenalize me
(Right here, right now) Adrenalize me
(Right here, right now) Adrenalize me
(Right here, right now) I'm addicted to this

 

"We have to live before we die"
This is the commandment — the heart of the whole song.
Devi is not whispering here — She is shouting over the noise of the world:
Wake up. Stop postponing. Life is not rehearsal.

"We were born to live before we die"
This line hammers the truth deeper.
Birth was not given for survival alone — it was given to taste the full nectar of existence.
Anything less is betrayal of the gift.

"Don't you wanna live before you die?"
Here She taunts, challenges — a dare thrown into your chest.
If you are honest, you cannot answer “no.”
The line strips you bare: Then what are you waiting for?

"Let me see you live before you die"
The last line of the mantra becomes personal.
Devi demands proof — not words, not belief, but action.
She will not settle for theoretical devotion — She wants you alive.

"(Right here, right now) Adrenalize me"
The invocation explodes.
No waiting, no delay, no future promise — now.
This is the prayer of the one who has dropped hesitation:
flood me, break me, set me on fire.

"(Right here, right now) I'm addicted to this"
The bridge ends where the chorus began —
the confession of holy addiction.
This is the bhakta saying: I would rather burn with You now than sleep forever.

 

The bridge is the apex of the song — the moment where everything becomes demand, vow, and initiation.
It is not a suggestion to live fully — it is a ritual command: live before you die, or you have not lived at all.

 

Final Chorus & Outro

 

I must confess I'm addicted to this
Shove your kiss straight through my chest
I can't deny, I'd die without this
Make me feel like a God
Music, love, and sex
(Adrenalize me)

I crave excess, turning wine into sweat
Dripping down my neck
I can't deny, I'd die without this
Make me feel like a God
Adrenaline and sex

Adrenalize me

 

"I must confess I'm addicted to this"
The confession now feels like a vow.
After the bridge’s commandment to live, this line becomes an offering:
Yes, I am addicted — and I will stay addicted until this fire remakes me.

"Shove your kiss straight through my chest"
This is no longer metaphor — it is crucifixion, initiation, transformation.
The kiss is the divine blow, the wound through which ecstasy enters.

"I can't deny, I'd die without this"
This line now sounds less like desperation and more like clarity.
To live without this current would be the true death.

"Make me feel like a God / Music, love, and sex"
This is the prayer that unites body and spirit, desire and devotion.
The human and the divine are no longer separate — the song itself has become a ritual that consecrates everything.

"(Adrenalize me)"
Now the invocation feels like surrender.
There is no hesitation, no bargaining — only consent to be flooded.

"I crave excess, turning wine into sweat / Dripping down my neck"
The imagery is no longer just sensual — it is sacramental.
Wine becoming sweat is the body’s Eucharist, the proof that the ritual worked.

"I can't deny, I'd die without this"
Repetition here is mantra — each time, it drives the truth deeper into the bones.

"Make me feel like a God / Adrenaline and sex"
The final invocation completes the circle:
fear and desire fused into worship,
life and death fused into awakening.

"Adrenalize me"
The last word is not quiet — it is a roar, a prayer, a challenge.
The listener is left with the current still running,
as if Devi is saying: Don’t just listen. Do it. Live it. Right here, right now.

The Dare That Cannot Be Ignored

 

Adrenalize does not let you stay clean, quiet, or safe.
By the final cry, it has burned every trace of polite devotion to ash and left you standing in the raw voltage of being alive.

This is not metaphorical bhakti — this is full-body surrender.
It is the kind of love that would rather bleed than go numb,
that would rather burn than drift.
It is the devotion that takes Her command literally:
Live before you die.

This song is a dare.
A dare to feel more, to want more, to throw yourself into the current
until there is no separation between prayer and pulse.

If you take that dare, you will not come back the same.
But you will come back awake —
every nerve, every breath, every heartbeat lit up like an altar flame.

And that is the only offering Devi has ever wanted.