Why Does My Muse Only Speak When

I'll Have Your Heart, If Not By Gift My Knife Shall Carve It Out. I'll Have Your Heart, Your Life.

Oh Lion In A Peculiar Guise, Sharp Roman Road To Paradise, Come Eat Me Up, I'll Pay Thy Toll With All My Flesh, And Keep My Soul.

The Flower And Fruit Of Love Are Mine The Ant, The Fieldmouse And The Mole

The Sea Was Angry That Day My Friend, Like An Old Man Trying To Send Back Soup At A Deli.

Who Is This That Comes In Grandeur, Coming From The Blazing East? This Is He We Had Not Thought Of, This Is He The Airy Christ.