There Is Rust In My Mouth,the Stain

I've Grown Tired Of Love You Are The Trouble With Me I Watch You Walk Right By

What's Missing Is The Eyeballs In Each Of Us, But It Doesn't Matter Because You've Got The Bucks, The Bucks, The Bucks.

...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own Skin And Dug Into Her Soul And Found It Full.

We Are All Writing God's Poem.

There Is A Good Look That I Wear Like A Blood Clot. I Have Sewn It Over My Left Breast. I Have Made A Vocation Of It.