In The End, Every Hypochondriac Is His

Once Fishing Was A Rabbit's Foot-- O Wind Blow Cold, O Wind Blow Hot

What Can The Dove Of Jesus Give You Now But Wisdom, Exile? Stand And Live, The Dove Has Brought An Olive Branch To Eat.

We Feel The Machine Slipping From Our Hands As If Someone Else Were Steering; If We See Light At The End Of The Tunnel, It's The Light Of The Oncoming Train.

Pity The Planet, All Joy Gone From This Sweet Volcanic Cone

Wallowing In This Bloody Sty, I Cast For Fish That Pleased My Eye