THE SALT WE RUB IN - TOLD WE'RE NOTHING - WRY - CASHUE BEEN - WE ARE CRONES - NON-PLASTIC RIDES TO DECAY - WE RUN SALT - WE RUN ASH - WEEN UMBRAGE - I CURSE THIS VESSEL OF THE FLESH - IT'S MESH OF TRAITS SO FLAWED & IMPERFECTED (MERRICK) - I CURSE THIS VESSEL OF THE FLESH - THIS FOUL ABOMINATION OF A VEHICLE IN WHICH I MUST OCCUPY BOTH TIME & SPACE - LEFT WITH NOTHING BUT A PILE OF EMPTY STEMS - ALL THE PETALS HAVE BEEN PLUCKED - I CURSE - LEFT WITH NOTHING BUT A PILE OF EMPTY STEMS – ALL THE PETALS HAVE BEEN PLUCKED & SHE LOVES ME NOT - (I CURSE THIS VESSEL OF THE FLESH) - I CURSE THIS VESSEL - THIS ILL FAVOURED REPUGNANT CHALICE - IN WHICH CONTAINS THY FUTILE FRUSTRATIONS OF LUST - I CURSE THIS VESSEL OF THE FLESH - IT'S MESH OF TRAITS SO FLAWED & IMPERFECTED (MERRICK) - WEEN UMBRAGE - WE ARE NOT CLEAN OR FIT TO TASTE THE PRISTINE GIFTS OF THE HUMAN FLESH – YOU GOTSA WEEN UMBRAGE