Oh, isn't it strange, that people have eyesnThat sit, twitching about, for most of their livesnAnd oh, it can't be denied, with bodies so sweetnSo young and so lithe, infront of our brainsnOh isn't it strange, we've got pairs of eyesnnWhen I remember my dreams, they're always with younI crack those orbs at the seams, and suck out the juicenI'd use those eyelashes as brooms to clean up my housenYou're coming here soon, you're bringing relief nAnd terrible truths and love and abusennOh, isn't it strange, that people have eyesnThat rest in sockets of bone, so peaceful and quietnnAnd isn't it strange, that people have eyesnn