Inferior To The Faces Hanging Over Me.

You Choose To Join Them, I Remain Unaccepted.

So What's Left For Us...paper Mache Conversations?

So What Is Left For Us? Back To The Nothingness We Started At.

I've Devoted A World And You Can't Spare Me Pity.

Your Words Have Threaded This Web Of Rejection.

I Can Only Promise That I Will Unmask The Faces Hanging Over Me (the Only Thing I Will Ever Be Is A Memory).