Après la petit mort, homey don't want you no more
That surge of dopamine has turned to dust
Save for the Coolidge Effect, post coitum omne triste est
That fine line between arousal and disgust

When the act is complete, you recoil to your feet
Excuse yourself and stare into the mirror in disbelief

Social cohesion be damned, you just had to get your hands
Upon this novel creature's flesh
The neurochemistry of all profound regret
Trust me kid, you ain't seen nothing yet

Oh, the ridiculous things in service of self-esteem
To be desired, some basic human need
The moralistic glee that we all take in the
Public airing of fellow hapless humans' sins

Well, they're rubber, you're glue
Your webcam stares back at you
And the sprawling subdivisions of glass-houses housed within

Don't be so hard on yourself
You're just like everybody else