I can't understand excessive cleanliness,
I don't see the appeal. Maybe I only
relate to addicts, to those enslaved
by insane pleasures. I must be one of them.
They must be here to stretch and strain
my consciousness, we must be here to be
slingshotted into the cosmos.
I am still the evil boy who wants more.
I still seek the shocking fullness of the void.
My companions, they have wandered away,
they must be doing the same.
The game plays everyone:
we want to get played hard.
We are not those who seek
the fuckless side of God.
The real crown waits beneath
the royal fraud. The silence talks.
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