I'll burn my own house down; I don't need possessions. Life is best unfettered lusting for the taste of meat. The meat is gone, delicious bones steep in the pot, I hear my own moans, the heart is raped, constricted veins, the new friend grows, not but a troll. I see my death played out in movies. I'm not safe, they're after me; they're telling me I need to flee. I don't see flying cars and spaceships; I just see grave stones. I'm not sure the outcome lies with future meetings.
He was supposed to be a savior, a messenger of love, surpass and succeed a purveyor of fortune. He was supposed to be a godsend here to help us live, not try to destroy, made to benefit us. (I know I'm a disappointment; I can see that much so clearly. I wish that things had been more pleasant, wish I brought you solidarity. I can't live here but I know that he can. Nothing but the shell of good me. In my sleep you take my organs, cut to the bone, steal the insides.)
Back to planet Earth now: I don't retain my face, nothing looks quite the same, staring at the face of meat. Why won't anybody love me now? I'm just a skeleton! There is nothing wrong with making everyone see themselves. I'm a great protector showing man what makes him the same. We're just meat and marrow, bones and shit that's made from the stars. Don't go outside: nothing is all right. Don't show your face: hide behind clothes. Meat and marrow: life's that shallow.