Casual sex
Is it irrational? (Yes!)
I think it's time to find out why
And soon I fall asleep, it's nighttime.

In a dream there's a dolphin
And a soldier, they're walking
Through the sand and toward a morgue.
In an office there's a hostess who has
Carried our friend
And wheeled him into a drawer.
She pulls his file,
The air is cold.
Down the aisle we follow her,
I'm thinking casual sex - the feeling.
Casual sex - the soldier's life's the same as mine
And he's attracted to a nun.

But the feeling of sex is nothing possible yet,
A new wave soldier's standing next to a young nun.
The nun just has to pace,
Her gothic skirt over her legs,
They're getting warmer toward the insides
And their tops.

"The inexistence of time" is not a painting, it's life.
They're into robes and gloves,
Goblet glass and crosses.

The feeling of sex is nothing possible yet.
A new wave soldier is standing next to a young nun.
The sound of her voice,
And the handle of the robe
Are getting thinner as the whip begins to speak.
The nun just strikes a pose.
The soldier's helmet hits the floor.
He's walking backward
Until he's pinned against stained glass.