Casual sex, is it irrational?
(Yes)
I think it's time to find out why
And soon I fall asleep, it's nighttime
In a dream there's a dolphin and a soldier
They're walking through the sand and toward a morgue
In an office there's a hostess who has carried our friend
And wheeled him into a drawer
She pulls his file, the air is cold
Down the aisle we follow her
I'm thinking casual sex, the feeling
Casual sex, the soldier's life's the same as mine
And he's attracted to a nun
But the feeling of sex is nothing possible yet
A new wave soldier's standing next to a young nun
The nun just has to pace, her Gothic skirt over her legs
They're getting warmer toward the insides and their tops
"The inexistence of time" is not a painting, it's life
They're into robes and gloves, goblet glass and crosses
The feeling of sex is nothing possible yet
A new wave soldier is standing next to a young nun
The sound of her voice, and the handle of the robe
Are getting thinner as the whip begins to speak
The nun just strikes a pose
The soldier's helmet hits the floor
He's walking backward until he's pinned
Against stained glass