The boundaries that present themselves,
Sporadically, as the fuckin' world spits,
Fondles its piece and adjusts itself.
I'll match my guilt against any of you fuckers,
The worst coming from what I haven't even done.
When your dreams and your upbringing collide,
No technology will heal your perversion.
Pit all against the chance that circumstances will allow,
Natural birth to exist anymore.
The next step has been taken, and Nature's been replaced,
Not by fucking, but by evening the score.
And it's alright,
I don't need to say fuck again,
No richness in language can replace the effect.
Of course, it doesn't really allow your mind to bend.
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