Under a palm tree
Computer screens researching me
Digital disgust in this century
Heaven burns for you and me
Living inside your pool
Inviting medical mutants to join us
Spacey floats in nostalgia
Imitates his furniture using her slaves
Scenes from the Southern Cross come to me
Solar ecstasy
Moving on the beams
Still unveiling me
Through distant solar breeze
Solar sea
In her tomb of hoaxes
Blame it on the inorganic beach boys
Intergalactic hellscapes
Are kicked through rotted sandcastles
Scenes of accidents below go down