Stay here.
Melt.
Your body's aroma a fetid aura of self gratification, for null.
Compulsory movements towards recompense as a reward for...
What?
For melting. For rotting. For the day to day grind.
For this post-industrial nightmare
That has found a home in your apperception.
It is wrong to write the song.
It has already been written for you.
Stay here.
Melt.
It is wrong to be strong.