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Mars Volta, The's music CDs BUY here.
Don't you pretend
That I'm not alive
My bones never ache
Unless she's nearby
Where is your face
In a safe of dead tongues
I can see you reflection
In your totem first born
I suspect
You've been carrying a pack of wolves
I regret
Not killing you while I had the chance
Maybe I will always haunt you
Mark the somnolence with truth
Better hang your dead palace
Than have a living home to lose
In the river ganges god damns my name
Don't let these hands
Sharpen your eyes
A rasp of tails
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