Section 2

It's good to feel your warm prosthetic hand upon my metal head
It's nice to feel your soft synthetic touch upon my livid skin
It's hard to hear your cruel and wicked tongue upon my timid ears
It's good to know you're real
Oh electric eyes, this love is visual
So we breathe into a polyurethane lung choking on oxygen
Plastic tragedy so they cannot see your ghost when you are dead and gone