No Poetic Device
The Hanging Garden
Man In A Suitcase
Paper Airplanes (makeshift Wings) (demo Version)
The Great Disappointment (demo Version)
Now The World
I Wanna Get A Mohawk (but Mom Won't Let Me Get One)
The Prayer Position
The Checkered Demon
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