my hand Did they not murder You? Did they not see You die? Hangin' on a tree as life had left your eyes Did we not torture You? Smiling as You died
For those more lovely and admirable is least among the saved And where would I fit, Jesus? What place is left for me? The price of atonement is more than
eulogy is like poetry But your mouth is like a magazine Your eulogy is like poetry But your mouth is like a magazine Queen dependency is cowering, please
The love letters that lead to bliss , embracing, youthful, love's first kiss Stops after school, the parents fooled, thinking they'll be home so soon
Gregor starved to death No one dies of loneliness
like a baby and see if then maybe The others will cherish your hurt Never you see a cry or a plea Consider another or first Know this is your world The
be for you I'll give everything Just to linger on your lips and feel your fingertips You are an angel Art is not the world Art is in our heart And
to hold ideas in place, no expression on your face Music and her patrons are dead and irrelevant, yeah Like osteoporosis, she's brittle, she is broken
off a cliff Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing is forever Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing is forever Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing is forever Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing is
like the wind does blow Beckoning unto the deep Offering out unto the meek There you lay in Jesus hands Resting there beside the Lamb There will not
our eyes So if it seems so beautiful Kiss the beauty goodbye Oh, my little cornea Please say that you are no more And ears please swear you did not hear
the best smiles when they're faking Notes are shattered, blood is spattered The night is ours for the taking And what shall we say now that it is gone
still than paramecium I?ll bet your hands are beautiful I?m sure your head is beautiful But the world is ugly The world is ugly and it?s true I?ll
my hand, Did they not murder you? Did they not see you die? Hanging on a tree as the life had left your eyes, Did we not torture you? Smiling as you died
The love letters that lead to bliss, Embracing, youthful, love's first kiss, Stops after school, the parents fooled, Thinking they'll be home so soon
not be forgiven; my wages will be paid, for those more lovely and admirable is least among the saved, and where would i fit Jesus? what place is left
so preoccupied, Never found beaten down with your forked tongue tied. Your eulogy is like poetry, But your mouth is like a magazine. Queen dependency is
Gregor starved to death, No one dies of loneliness