A single moment was enough to create this;
a retinal distraction when a scatter of light
hits and forms an image.
Perfection is the harshest term,
the shade of your eyes is a curse,
it’s a curse —
don’t look at me,
don’t look at me,
it hurts.

The neurons have fired,
the neurons have fired:
a torrential surge
through the optic nerve,
I can’t find the words…

The warmth of a body
in an empty bed —
when only the scent is left,
only dissent is left.

A single moment was enough to create this;
a retinal distraction when a scatter of light
hits and forms an image.
Perfection is the harshest term,
the shade of your eyes is a curse,
it’s a curse —
don’t look at me,
don’t look at me,
it hurts.

The neurons have fired,
the neurons have fired:
a torrential surge
through the optic nerve,
I can’t find the words…

The warmth of a body
in an empty bed —
when only the scent is left,
only dissent is left.

It’s too late for rational sense,
the neurons have fired,
the neurons have fired.

A single moment was enough to create this;
a retinal distraction when a scatter of light
hits and forms an image.
Perfection is the harshest term,
the shade of your eyes is a curse,
it’s a curse —
don’t look at me,
Don’t look at me,
it hurts.