Ouroboros

if you zoom close enough you'll find lyrics to Portishead's "Biscuit", a song disparate and drowning in grim dissonant tones, all the while being about a series of arduous sexual exchanges wherein each party's only goal is self pleasure. The song's samples of "I'll never fall in love again" by Johnnie Ray lends it to feeling more like a tawdry cry for help than anything about love or even lust. It's a purchase, it's consumption and release. Feeding and purging. A cyclical and formulated process rendered as casual and self assured in its success as its banality. 

he knows he'll never "feel full", he knows that each exploration is only a tithe to satiety for so long. the sweetness of momentary release, and the blood and sweat shed all for it to vanish at a moment's notice. 

it's beautiful how everything we do in some way or another ties back to our fight against semipermanence--while his deals with it directly.