My life, my dark stuff. Our life, our dark stuff.

In my own puke, sperm and blood
lying on the floor,
raising my voice and arms to protest:
"I DID NOT COME FOR THIS SHOW!!!"

Yes, indeed you did, Sir,
look at your wristband,
you paid by the door.

"NO! It wasn't me back then, I was drunk!"

So you're telling me you didn't buy this
"fresh 100% cold-pressed pineapple juice 180ml"
packed in a plastic bottle
in the middle of winter Prague?

And that's not your smartphone in your hand?

These are not your
standardized hipster tracks fresh weekly with no ads?

This is not your
"rape BDSM porn" last search?

Wasn't that you
posing carefully,
not to overstep anyone's boundary,
but still staying likeable perfectly?

No wait, that might have been me,
let me check...

Yeah shit that's my phone,
the display's broken,
I must've dropped it.
Well, I was gonna get a new one anyway,
it had two scratches down the back.

This is all designed
so that you can have your little
differences and revolts,

but by the end of the day,

we will still have harvested your souls.

Welcome aboard,

our international flight!

We can chat a bit about air polution
to kill this long and boring 2-hour wait.

Oh, and btw, nice nails!!