Failed every period
Did baroque badly
Afraid of blood
Dream was too lonely

I chose keeping it together
In these IKEA white walls
Of my post-war Nordic silence
But only desire is real

I must find some kind of art form
Where I can call my tongue
Back from the underground
There are multitudes
There are multitudes

In the doctor's office
Speculum pulls me open
Spacing my space
Accidental sci-fi

Regulating my aperture
Vagine savant
Some people find it painful
But all I feel is connected
All I feel is connected
There must be some kind of art form
Where I can call my blood
There are multitudes
There are multitudes
There are multitudes

Don't be afraid
It's only blood