The starry firmament above thee pales! Thine sparkling eye, coquettish, yet naive, thy velvet skin my tender gaze receives, the cosmos held within your lovers' tales. Absolve me now, as always, from my fear -- that razor's line before oblivion's song, the weeping dirge of Earth's pathetic throngs -- and bathe my battered soul in kisses dear. Run with me now! to vale and placid stream. In hidden groves our love illuminates and washes clean the ugliness of fate and after comes the quietest of dreams... ...Yea, if unloved religion was my opiate, thou, Netflix, are my methamphetamine.