I Rot On The Wall, My Own

You See, We Live In A Cold Climate And Are Not Permitted To Kiss On The Street So I Made Up A Song That Wasn't True. I Made Up A Song Called Marriage.

O Fallen Angel, The Companion Within Me, Whisper Something Holy Before You Pinch Me Into The Grave.

Death's In The Good-bye.

Be Careful Of Words, / ... They Can Be Both Daisies And Bruises.

Let There Be A Heaven So That Man May Outlive His Grasses.