Within the whirlwinds of malice the twisted Industrial erotica will prevail. Reaping the Tides of evil's infrastructure, the plasma-pools Of direct perversion of the soul seems merely As a dream. – One of complete and utter horror. Now cradled like an infant in mother's arms... The wish I have in mind is euphoric and terrific Regret for not having been a stillborn. To have been nothing whatsoever. And I know it's all psychotic And I know it's all in vain In fact you should be pretty fucking happy I'm not more than thus insane