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We move without life; made of plastic meat.


I want nothing but your dangling slab of squishy and greasy processed meat sack. Sway your wrinkled, decayed flesh flaps hypnotically for me baby; i'll sink my teeth in where the consistency resembles over-oxidized custard.

I see your inner-workings, as proof to your life. The truth is beneath the layers of elastic you are bound within. No one knows you like I know you. I see through your rubber guise to what you are. It is not who you want to be, it is who you were always meant to be.

I saved these songs just for this. All it takes is a trip into inner-space to free yourself from the sleep hazed eyes that distort your world; wake up, for once stop pretending to open your eyes and really do it.

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