These pastels have gotten paler
You refuse to pale in comparison
I'm a tourist
As I mend the stitching of your soul
And watch you lose control
And somehow this song
Makes it personal
Makes it orbital
Makes French sirens
Sound like butterfly wings
An exotic vacation
No beaches needed
As we disco dance
In a trance of city lights
Resounding from the cove
Of secret species' who
Never do as their told
My body still aches
But I killed a prehistoric fish today

All is well if you keep
Sticking me with pins
I've already had the needles
I've already had a phallus
To suspend all their malice
Yet I still breathe warm-blooded
And cold
***** me before I ***** you
Survival of the fittest Adam’s and Eve’s
You’re all the things I want but don’t need
My seed is your worst enemy