Take this record Start with self-mockery
A master work of toilet tissue, but the words are sexy
To a happy corpse; washed up, I am already
I went from a romantic dream to a wet spot on the sheets
Give it one last try til the next one more last try
I'm not renting this planet It's all mine
I could not compete with my old body
I pushed it too hard It fell apart on me
We are alone, with the tranquil
We are alone And it offsets fear for the nights
You're upset? Don't believe your eyes
This mute print lies