Two o'clock in the morning
and again I can't sleep
my IPod's playin' the internet's callin'
I wanna indulge, I wanna just weep

when you can play out your fantasies
of sordid lust and rough *** through
a video player on your phone, all on your own
or get the real thing with a text

midnight conversations of the perverse kind
desperate ***** hookers whispering in your ear,
Tommy Gunn licks Rosie's behind as she
burns your libido with that naughty sumptuous leer

as a teenager it was fun, apparently normal
but you know it's become a problem when
you're calling lights-out at twelve
but falling asleep at two-thirty AM

once you had to pay, now it's free,
festering in the crevices of the Web
swollen, bloated and growing
from its dank hiding place it begins to ebb

a drug manufactured from
the vilest sins of the mind
prefabricated drool, a vice blackened and cruel
forbidden but not exactly hard to find

---

now here I lie
my flesh blistered and rubbed raw
fat tears run down my face
but not knowin' what it is I'm crying for.