How did I manage to find a momentary masturbation at the back of the television?
A dusty personality, Festering amongst those obnoxious channels.
Deep in that murky soup of soaps I lost my confidence,
I lost my voice and replaced it with a thousand impersonations of other wanker's I never met.
To be so trite.
Obvious is that I'm the only one with a net, the only one capable of fishing myself out.
What is that sickly part of me that likes the taste of my wounds?
Deep in the salty black and grey depths no one can see you cry -
The way you like it, no one should ask you for an explanation then.