And when your clothes are on the ground and your hair is falling down Will you surrender to it now? Because yes only we exist in our symphony of flesh in our universe of bliss
In the infinite kiss, the infinite kiss
As it subjugates you now, as it pins you to the ground like a tethered animal As it drags you by the hips and it forces you to this, it is hell but in is bliss
It's the infinite kiss, the infinite kiss
As you move like a machine and the child within you screams 'when was heaven so obscene?' It's our playground of exess, it is poetry made flesh, it's our sumphony of bliss