Machines don't need a breather
Machines don't need a breather
You came in red, you'll leave all red
I have my methods, daddy
Have you met perfection?
What were you sniffing around, daddy?
I need a taste to be convinced
Claim your big prize
You are an amazing specimen, miss
Fabrics of fantasy in the skin of reality
Don't you just love mornings?
No fear of the monster
A match made in throat fuck heaven
Soft all over