Stare; it’s rude, but watch me
Not really out of mind, not almost hallucinatory
Between the blur of alcohol and the strike of sparks
Are we or aren’t we quite the same since the last glass?
How did we incinerate one, two, when it began as a lone drive
A mutual fate-fuck three minutes quicker than the speed of light
Did we just see each other in a different stroke, a stripping of sorts?
Snap a finger go back, this isn’t what we came for, or is it?
Sometimes ethanol has a way of making us sick of keeping shit
So let’s go, cliche as it is, double the pleasure double the fun
Go before my brain stops becoming a hypno-stun gun.
You know I know this is a one-shot deal lest we do it wrong
Act I, Scene 0, lights camera action —