The Lucky Ones Are Just Born Dead.

No Mat­ter How Much I Try And Hide This, Bit By Bit, I Start To Fall Apart.

How Folks Lay Claim To A Loved One Is They Give You A Name Of Their Own. They Figure To Label You As Their Property.

There's A Terrible Dark Joy When The Only Person Who Knows All Your Secrets Is Finally Dead.

You Can Spend Your Whole Life Building A Wall Of Facts Between You And Anything Real.

The Liberator Who Destroys My Property Is Fighting To Save My Spirit. The Teacher Who Clears All Possessions From My Path Will Set Me Free.