You, my friend,
Deserve things like spring as reference to your majesty.
But nothing draws conclusion in the bones of your face
When you've dismissed a kiss right off the lips
And straight into the gutter of my life.
Here,
Where my body was left empty and tormented for years,
Caked by the loose skins of an oversized heart,
Finally worn too thin.
Ballad Of Circling Voltures
Ballad Of Circling Voltures
Tantrum
Tantrum
Tantrum
We Left As Skeletons
Tantrum
Sounds Of Gravesites
Goodbye, Face
Goodbye, Face
The Lonely Waltz Of Leonard Cohen
The Lonely Waltz Of Leonard Cohen
Life In a Box
Calm Song
Calm Song
More Complicated Than a Sci-fi Flic
More Complicated Than a Sci-fi Flic
Comedy Of Christ
The Hollowed Out Chest Of a Dead Horse
A Sonnet Both Ugly And Murderous