By the Egyptian GateI wait in my penance vestI've never been
so lost beforeso I can't help myself possessedI want to be
torn throughthe material of your fleshYour husband lies
unconsciouson Samuda's precipiceI drink in the dead night
airand your astringent kissShe's slovenly lovelyhe's a
moth over opiumso long time stone cold sobernow marked down for
deliriumher perfume draws his blood outand back to this asylum
slumOne man, one womanwalk around Newington Greenthe worst case
of resemblancein N16I hate having to desire youhate feeling this
againI hate having to desire youin common with other menMy
fellow-creature-gods look outto be mutually blessedthis
therapeutic age leaves them coldso fashionably distressedbut I
just want to be torn throughthe material of your flesh"Cheer up,
it'll never happen" they said"not every candle burnslighting
up these lonely nightsin this century of germsso ... many ...
happy ... returns""Cheer up it'll never happen" they
said"we're here on your behalf""It already has" I saidthey
evaporate and laughI hate having to desire youhate feeling this
againI hate having to desire youin common with other menThe best
in lifeit's nothing specialremember who said itour lives are
runningoh my little deaththis is foreverthe final edit
Send "Flesh" Ringtone to your Cell 
