The Truth Is Far From You, So

Michelangelo Indeed Could Have Carved Out Your Features.

Beauty Walks A Razors Edge, Someday I'll Make It Mine.

Shakespeare, He's In The Alley With His Pointed Shoes And His Bells, Speaking To Some French Girl Who Says She Knows Me Well.

Bent Out Of Shape From Society's Pliers, Cares Not To Come Up Any Higher, But Rather Get You Down In The Hole That He's In.

Beyond Here Lies Nothin' But The Mountains Of The Past