A stuttering halt is a fantasy here;
as believable as low-budget science fiction.
Let us freeze one and all with violent ambition.
A time of calm is nonexistent here;
our disposal of time is a fruitless conviction.
Let us play the victim of a reckless tradition.
For me, paradise is just a pair of dice:
if we roll them and get lucky,
then society won't **** me.
The odds are painless.
You can trust me;
we won't ever be so lucky.