I Like Butter And The People Who

I Just Hand Shoes On The Wall. They're Architecture You Know.

So, You Can Make Me Come, That Doesn't Make You Jesus.

Get Off The Cross, We Need The Wood.

Years Go By Will I Still Be Waiting For Somebody Else To Understand Years Go By If I'm Stripped Of My Beauty And The Orange Clouds Raining In Head Years Go By Will I Choke On My Tears Till Finally There Is Nothing Left One More Casualty You Know We're Too Easy Easy Easy

There Is Value In Everybody's Gift. No Matter How Hard To Find Or Strange It Is.