my heart is not clean,
your table is green,
too collect my things,
the harvest of every men,
is in the can.
in a single city,
a strand in your hand,
where all your men live to study you,
and eat you where you live,
Get down.
Messenger
Car Language
Unspirited
Devil Doll
Blatant Doom Trip
H.I.T.
I.B.C.
Scalping The Guru
The Fool Ticket
Underdog
Everyday
Spinning Around
Cigarette Tricks
What About It?
Jellyfish Reflector
Interest Position
To Remake The Young Flyer
Auditorium
Subatomic Rain
How Is My Drinking?