Amongst the books, an angel i've not met
And time hasn't touched her yet
From a to m to z she swans, as if avoiding bed
Pigtails instead of wings
I strung her harp with my heart strings
And i would ask this spring for her
If i knew what the right words were
Exit
Postal
Theory Of Ghosts
The Nostalgist
The Index
Stations
Saints Preserve Us
Non-Fiction
Dark Ages
The King Cannot Be Found
Dark Ages
Echoes On Ice
I Am the Sub-Librarian
On Edge
The Tollbooth Martyrs
Comets
Exit
Speed The Road Rush The Lights
Recovery Position
The Unwritten Law