I Will Die If I Lose You,

My Only Hope Lies In My Despair.

He Who Laughs On Friday Will Weep On Sunday.

When I'm Carried Away, Isn't It Clear That My Heart Contradicts My Mouth?

Have There Ever Been More Submissive Slaves? Adoring, Even In Their Irons, The God Who Punishes Them.

My Death, Taking The Light From My Eyes, Gives Back To The Day The Purity Which They Soiled.