| Lyrics | Song | Band |
| Freezing. Rests his head on a pillow made of concrete. | |
| And I feel, and I feel. When the dogs begin to smell her. Will she smell alone? | |
| I stole a thousand beggar's change. And gave it to the rich. | |
| So don't you lock up something. That you wanted to see fly. Hands are for shaking. | |
| Jesus Christ. Deny your maker. He who tries. Will be wasted. | |
| As he open the door. She rolls over. Pretends to sleep as he looks her over. | |
| Waiting on a Sunday afternoon. For what I read between the lines. | |
| Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage. Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved. | |
| What else could I say? Everyone is gay. What else could I write? | |