I Think It Would Count More, If

This Morning Came On To Me, Silver Wings Silhouetted Against The Child's Sunrise.

Evil Man Make Me Kill You.

After Awhile, Your, Your Cheap Talk Don't Even Cause Me Pain, So Let Your Bullets Fly Like Rain.

Music Makes Me High On Stage, And That's The Truth. It's Like Being Almost Addicted To Music.

The Way I Write Things, I Just Write Them With A Clash Between Reality And Fantasy Mostly. You Have To Use Fantasy To Show Different Sides Of Reality; It's How It Can Bend.