Mr. Electric Ocean disappears and re-appears like a smiling/snarling phantom. Dawn: Wooing the blue from the crawling eyes of babes. 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.