I’m a suspect treat
I’m a rendered splendor
with a nervous strain pain

gold shifts to blue
so the peach is split
and the vein got hit

slow down, strip the grip
change the angle
how are you?

feel
fiction
feel
overload
feel
tongue
wounded by the tongue
feel
fiction

move like your eye
lexize this lie
my drag has a golden gaze
to allude i deny
when i flood this flesh
i will freeze and crash
i will click and clash
till the glaze is cracked
in a rush you shed your scales
pattering an endless you
slow down, strip the grip
change the angle
shift to blue