In the arms of the angel, fly away from here....you are pulled from the wreckage, of your silent reverie, you're in the arms of the angel, may you find some comfort here.

Hold on...Hold on to yourself. This is going to hurt like hell.

You speak to me in riddles, you speak to me in rhymes, my body aches to breathe your breath, your word keeps me alive.

We're constantly being told what other people think we are, and that's why it is so important to know yourself.

I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Standing on the edge of something much too deep.

I like the idea that we build up these walls or rules or laws to maintain our reality, and when they fall away, you're left with a whole bunch of illusions.

It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness, that brings me to my knees.