Instinct

Suffer the whim to survive and to feel;
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 I've been alone, I was born (it's incurable).
 'Til the end we are...
 animal.
 ♪
 Salival
 benediction
 tastes the same,
 
 liable
 to desperation.
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 (Suffer the whim to survive and to feel)
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 This chemical slope is surreal,
 
 it's the way we turn in circles
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 of delight and fear.
 
 I've been alone...
 I've been alone, I was born
 (it's incurable).
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 How can it weigh so
 heavily on our minds
 to feel someone's
 flesh
 and
 bone
 pressed against our own?
 ♪
 'Til the end we are...
 animal.
 ♪
 Salival
 fascination
 
 taints and shames.
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 Creatures, learnt to crawl,
 we are enslaved by what we are.
 Warm-blooded throes,
 we are in chains
 above, below.