| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 3:00 | 
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| 2. |
| 3:07 |
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| 3. |
| 5:17 |
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| 4. |
| 5:06 |
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| 5. |
| 3:31 |
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| 6. |
| 4:45 |
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| 7. |
| 2:49 |
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| 8. |
| 3:30 | 
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Let your eyes walk on his tongue
His wife is dead, she doesn't see Voices raised to emptiness Arms reaching back to face the face Children stand shut to the length of his waist Dirt swept we shiver with our mouths to the ground, to the ground Word dancers shout the dead language of thieves "Dreams are omission, they fall deliberately" They fall deliberately They fall deliberately They fall deliberately They fall deliberately Let the sky scream, "suffocation" If you can't move, you can't breathe, breathe, breathe Voices raised to emptiness Arms reaching back to face the face, the face, the face You're just a face You're just a face Not me, dead girl dressed in white This is not healthy I, sanitation sin It could be you, you, you It could be you It could be you Mouth to mouth, face to face to face to face to face You can't get out if you're already there It's always been you It's always been you It's always been you, you, you |
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| 9. |
| 5:58 |
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| 10. |
| 6:10 |
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We were swollen lanterns of prey
Lighting the way for hunger to feast Our firm young skin free to befoul Caressing intrusion of the beast Bodies like toys bargain for favours The gift of sacrifice Wiping my body never again clean Guilt bleeds from taste of my sin In my shame are memories of passion The one thing of pleasure within Bodies like toys bargain for favours The gift of sacrifice No flowers to spare, she gave herself them And when she returned she was, she was Still still Bodies like toys bargain for favours The gift of sacrifice |
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| 11. |
| 2:59 |
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| 12. |
| 0:52 |
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| 13. |
| 3:14 |
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Sunday is gloomy,
My hours are slumberless Dearest the shadows I live with are numberless Little white flowers Will never awaken you Not where the black coach Of sorrow has taken you Sunday is gloomy, With shadows I spend it all My heart and I Have decided to end it all Soon there'll be candles And prayers that are said I know But let them not weep Let them know that I'm glad to go Angels have no thoughts Of ever returning you Wouldn't they be angry If I thought of joining you? Gloomy Sunday Death is no dream For in death I'm caressin' you With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessin' you Gloomy Sunday |
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| 14. |
| 13:03 |
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