A Body Treatise - The (International) Noise Conspiracy

Succulent beautiful and fine

I’m touching my body;

I’m feeling my mind

A fascination for penance

So please won’t you modify me with

Plastic knives and plastic spoons and other types of cutlery

Take what signifies

And make it leave this room

My sweet desire that wants to come to full bloom

Held captive — our culture molds on, our body holds

Held captive — target the role we have no control

Passionate, tastful and free

I mutilate myself to make me real

A heart beating in the wrong kind of chest

Of hair and sweat a manly mess

Take what signifies

And make it leave this room

My sweet desire that wants to come to full bloom

Held captive — our culture molds on, our body hold

Held captive — target the role we have no control

I cut myself up to make it real

I cut myself up cause thats the way I feel

I cut myself up to be free

I cut myself up to be me