Whenever I see your distant love light
I never have the strength to put up a good fight
And I surrender, I surrender every night
As my libido she misbehaves
I become one of your carbon-based love slaves
To your heartbeats and brainwaves

Call me the victim of a victimless crime
The by-product of a flawed design
And I go down
I go down
Every time

And every time I always fail to see
When love pretends to be what it’s supposed to be
Because the machine, the machine does everything for me

Love’s a rocky road that magically paves
When joining the collection of some missive knaves
To your heartbeat and brainwaves
I say!

And now we see our union’s torn asunder
Our nightclubs yearn for one more punter
And my heart, yeah my heart, is a lonely hunter

And as we dance into our graves,
We remember all those trippy trippy raves
Hosted by your heartbeats and your brainwaves

And yes I dabble in over-reaction
When confronted with the sciences of attraction
And I go down, I go down
Everytime

Heartbeats slowly, slowly pound
Brainwaves transmit underground
And I’m tired, so tired, of going down
Going down

*Thank you very much. It feels like Praire Home Companion, it really does. OK. The next questions. What do you call a made up tale about Indian bread? Naan-fiction! Oh boy. Song number six is a very beautiful song, with powerful, emotive lyrics. I wrote it.*