My hands up to the maker, my head's down in the bomb
I swim in bloated vision, and I kiss you on the phone
My heart beats so atomic, and I spill the sweat of drones
A mouth screams to a hundred, and my lips split all alone
Sometimes I think this pig will just explode
Sometimes I hope this torture just goes on
Well I'll stuff myself in a pi of darkness
And I'll slam 'till I can't see home
Would you like to hope for Eden, that I keep a steady hand
Do you want to milk the syrup of a thousand year old man
Shall we fuck each other's babies, let momentum do its best