Founds total 3 songs
The Line Begins To Blur
There are things that I said I would never do. There are fears that I cannot believe have come true. For my soul is too sick and too little and too late.
The Hand That Feeds
You're keeping in step in the line. Got your chin held high and you feel just fine. 'Cause you do what you're told. But inside your heart it is black and it's hollow and it's cold.
The Collector
I pick things up. I am a collector. And things, well things they tend to accumulate. I have this net. It drags behind me. It picks up feelings for me to feed upon.
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