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