I'm out to get you, Prince, and I'll cut your hair, take it for mine: take your mind, your ******* in a fistful of petals blooming from pods around the world and into the binary tools used over and over again stuffing it in my channel; the estuary floods!
If you can naturally prepare yourself, the gods seem to care less—I'm talking about how I'm out to get you, Prince, and take your virginity, steal the thing you want from me, and too bad you didn't get it first—
Tomorrow swings the bat, and I can give you this kitty-kat—play if you need the action: killer, gravitational pull, take your hair and not look back!
Scissors in a golden light, angelic chorus echo through the back drop, a jangly piano ****** and pings at our ears, you body is an instrument that I play like Tetris (if I could ever play, but it's an invitation I can't decline!)
I'm out to get you, Prince, get hit with a satellite laser beam. Wanna try? My dance, my song; I echo this back in the water to watch it ripple under the current ebbing waves controlled by the Moon in an empty part of a dreamed-universe.
You seem to be such an intangible falsity, floating through my own pink hearty tubular excavation: cut me in the jugular!
Hold my legs up to the petaled-Sun, breathe in this heat! I'm as thrilling as the stillness of silence after an atomic bomb, taking your virginity—I recommend you drop your price.
The most spiritual union the universe has ever seen, they take their eyes from our scene, so much purity and a gross obscene, cut my jeans from its inseam: I'm to get you, Prince.
Verbose. Inspired from a song, you might be able to tell from the repeating line, "I'm out to get you."
Was really inspired from the imagery from a Tantra book and the song mentioned.