Sick severed lips
Holding my bare hips.
Like Achilles heel,
The emotional appeal is severed.

And though I have no brain
I can't really complain
Of the wonders in the sky
And how high I can go.

Sure, I'm always heavy
And floods break my levees,
Like they were paper swans.
Suddenly they're gone and deceased.

This is in my blood,
Like heroin or dirty mud.
They stay and the phosphene
Shudders in the serene plastic dream.