He walks with a staggered stride and taboo thoughts…
Then came the screams breaking from the thrall
And he hears only what he wants them to say.
That she’s automated.
She moves like she’s designed.
Wanting to be desecrated by the BlueSunwomanchaser.
He makes a study of his sexless dolls while she unwinds.
“can I watch, as they touch you?”, is drowned out by frenzied, raving eyes.
She’s automated.
She moves like she’s designed.
Now she’s desecrated by the BlueSunwomanchaser.
Why do they always ask for reasons?
Then came the smell of the burning wood and the sounds of those alive with
passion longing for souls, which agonize with every step he takes and
breaths
…
And it’s automated.
they move like a design.
But now it’s desecrated by the BlueSunwomanchaser.
