Man In A Suitcase
The Hanging Garden
Paper Airplanes (makeshift Wings) (demo Version)
The Great Disappointment (demo Version)
Who Said You Could Touch Me?
Keeping Out Of Direct Sunlight (an Introduction)
Advances In Modern Technology
Narrative Of Soul Against Soul
No Poetic Device
The Last Kiss
Hung in your room, swaying, hoping only that you'll see.
All by myself, I'm alone in such poor company.
The deeper I think, the deeper I seem to sink, I can't stop the insects that are feeding,
pull the needles from beneath my skin. I broke myself, shattered, tied a bow around every piece.
You'll love the eyes. Have they always shown so vacantly? The more I show the less you'll want to know.
I can't stop the insects that are feeding, pull the needles from beneath my skin.
Now I'm on display. I am becoming. Hurt myself today. It's all for you.
Do you like what I'm becoming? Cut myself today. It's all for you.
I part the night, flashing, approaching as I watch you flee.
Pushed through your panes. Seems I've landed quite uncomfortably.
But as I pass through souls of broken glass I can't stop the insects that are feeding.
Pull the needles from beneath my skin.
Next: The Leaving Song
Previous: The Hanging Garden