The Letters Lyrics
With quill and silver knife She carved a poison pen Wrote to her lover's wife: "Your husband's seed has fed my flesh".


It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
Remorse Is For The Dead Lyrics
The dirty lord of the manor surveys his filthy domain Too many nights raising hell worked a little all too well Constructe

Whitney Lyrics
the world can't understand me broken hearted no one left for me to care for as these tears stream from my eyes along i scream aloud
are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
And The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives.

Yes we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in The Dangling Conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives