Play With A Gun

I stand at the crossroads
to hear, what it tells
to wait for the devil
or just anything else

it's a lonesome place
and there's no sign
and everthing seems to be
a waste of time

all of my memories
are becoming ureal
as if I just seem to be
and if I can't feel
as if I can't feel
troubled heard

I stand at the crossroads
gazing at my hand
all I was holding on 
turned into sand

Even in there
I searched for a dime
but this turned out to be 
a waste of time

all of my memories
are becoming ureal
as if I just seem to be
and if I can't feel
as if I can't feel
troubled heard

Escapuate

troubled heart

I Don't Give A Thing

The Third Twin Becomes The Second Triplet

Phobos & Deimos

Idiot's Pleasure

How We Are (Snippet)

If You Were Mine

In My Pocket

Sonic Love

How Can I Know

Whale On Neptune

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