The layouts

Victims themselves of a close encounter
Desperate abductors, constructors become infected, vexed
By an alien virus, so alien, so viral.
Living spaceapes, creatures, covered, smothered in ripe tentacles
Stimulating the audio nerve directly,
You wanna come flex with me

Hallucinating senses individually, insidiously
Are in any combination, rhythmically.
Shifting gears, focus upon intensity
Wait, big people that are nobody try fuck with i-man clarity...
Mind starts slipping to familiar tracks,
Bending warping, interfering with the facts,
Sensory language leaves us with no habit for lying,
We are hostile aliens, immune from dying

Don't harass me for not behaving correct
I only want to slide my arm round your neck
Interpretation, electro-chemical stimulation.
The sensation you feel is entirely real.
All that we share is our struggle for silence
We don't wanna bother with no arms house business,
No shooting, no violence
Sensory language twist snake like a limb
Flexible, versatile, curious like twins
Transparent in the way that it moves
With sufficient memory
 To cut clean through you .. ..