Make love to me in the suburbs,
on the back of a random gas station,
under the starry sky,
inside your beat up red car.

guide me through cold and darkness
for I cannot see, for it is hard to feel,
between all this numbness.

take me, by my love handles,
rise me up to the sky, constantly,
like an offering to our fragmented goddess,

make this a new form of prayer,
where sighs and moans
are sacred words
from millennial, heavenly languages.

Make love to me in the suburbs,
on the back of a random gas station,
under the starry sky,
inside your red, beat up car.