Thinking of sweetness, stuffed myself even more Afraid it'd run out, had to get even more Dripping with honey, bound to distort even more Gorging, got nauseous, vomited everywhere I thought that full was something better Detestable is how it feels Why must this be? The honey used to taste delightful Was it a poison actually there to trap me? Am I cursed? I've slighted no one And I'm sure I know myself the best So, something's not right Ah, this self is the only thing I love To hear, to smell, to see, to touch To taste is irreplaceable, no less