Mr. electric disappears and re-appears like a smiling/snarling phantom. Dawn: wooing the blue from the crawling eyes of babies Midday: vanished. grinning through the sweat pores of harlots and whores. Sundown: opening a cloak of tentacles... Preaching the gospel of cracked crystal beaks. Dusk: peeling back the birth skin like wrapping paper around a virgin. Vanish again. Twilight: march on electric children! And you, with your self righteous army of crotches spewing paper children, His death hole is deeper. And stronger than love.