The barrier at the back of your mind
opens - arms spread over miles,
so very welcoming.
I laugh at this sight, driving beneath the shadows
cast. Do you
love me - or - hell - anything?

Start of pleasure.
Stop the pain.

Reverberating across the hemishpeheres,
the froth of your broken DNA whines,
and moans. It bitches some more
about how little you care.
And you, well, you tell it,
"I care, but I try not to show it."

Start of pleasure.
Stop the pain.

I do not know if I have it in me
but I'll do my very very best,
to be the very very best that I
could ever hope to be.
I'm very very relaxed, and
why not? I'm very very unique.

Start of pleasure.
Stop the pain.

I am so unique, so special
that you cannot even hope to
or dream of feeling me.
I cannot be felt - ethereal.
I cannot share - ethereal.
I cannot feel - real.

Start of pleasure.
Stop the pain.

I am not a good guy,
I'm an antagonist all the
way. We moaned and we groaned,
but in the end... We
sucked it up and we
learned to parent ourselves.

Start of pleasure.
Stop the pain.

Start of pleasure.
Stop the pain.