| Song | Last Day of 1888 |
| Artist | Kids in the Way |
| Album | Apparitions of Melody: The Dead Letters Edition |
| Crowded streets and the memories of all the faces you see you don't know who | |
| I am when you're looking at me | |
| Hang me tonight in this false and jaded light | |
| In the center of the square, muder's bredding in the air | |
| We're all innocent. | |
| The shadow's playing with our eyes | |
| Sharpened tongues and the loaded guns of all the forunate sons you're the jack, back in black, ripping air from our lungs | |
| I'd cut my heart out of my chest and attach it to my sleeve | |
| If I thought you'd think differently of me |