I always had a repulsive sort of need to be something more than human.
If it works, it's out of date.
The end comes when the infinites arrive.
Oooh, fashion, we are the goon squad and were coming to town, beep beep.
When I'm stuck for a closing to a lyric, I will drag out my last resort: overwhelming illogic.
You go through stages where you wonder whether you are Christ, or just looking for him.