Mistagogue - Transceiver

I got your message today on my machine,

and I’ll never erase it.

I put the tape in my drawer,

and I’ll never misplace it.

And I know that I’ve gone too far,

a mystagogue you are,

and I don’t need your charity,

I need hypnotherapy.

And when I dropped you off at your house,

my car retained a hint of your smell.

I closed my eyes and swam in the atmosphere,

ingesting precious you.

And I know that I’ve gone too far,

a mystagogue you are.

Now I don’t need your charity,

I need hypnotherapy.

And then I realized, like I was shot.

Like I was shot with a diamond…

a diamond bullet right through my forehead.

And I thought, «My God.

The genius of that.

The genius.»

I wrote a poem for you, drew a picture of you,

made a sculpture of you, wrote this song just for you,

got a tattoo of you, had a dream about you,

wrote a novel for you, and a screenplay too.

Bought new outfits for you, got my hair cut for you,

when I touch myself, it’s all about you.