| Song | Unsolved Ideas of a Distorted Guest |
| Artist | Unexpect |
| Album | Fables of the Sleepless Empire |
| They twist and tangle in this circle of sand | |
| Unclassified | |
| They crawl up the walls everywhere, without precisions | |
| Shapes in a giant bunny's cranium | |
| Hopping and irresolute | |
| Unsolved ideas of a distorted guest | |
| No justifications, for these flavors are tasty passages | |
| The pleasure of sharing a so special collection | |
| If only I had some mechanical apparatus | |
| Involved with my torso | |
| My personal darkness would fade out to the nine winds | |
| Blown away by grafting cells | |
| She tasted spontaneity with an honorable mission in mind | |
| Just to spit out intense squares of uncolored ink | |
| In the face of a pulsating mass of flesh | |
| Talking nonsense on its throne | |
| Damn well she did! | |
| And in view of that case | |
| The oracle declared | |
| That it would be more pleasant to be naturalized | |
| Than to make conversation | |
| With a blind beholder in need of affection | |
| Only to find the same patterns on the fast lane | |
| We are within the nonsense of a larger plan | |
| Worthy of some salt pouring on a bloodied part | |
| Merry, merry, joy, joy! | |
| A nice and pleasant dip in an acid pool | |
| Don't you see my smile? | |
| I just glow with derision! | |
| Or perhaps my eyes, turning pitch black | |
| Only want to pierce these dense walls all around me | |
| They always do when sarcasm is on the verge of punching a well-earned goal | |
| Horns and screams are tools | |
| For the altered thoughts of an attitude | |
| Rooted in multiple layers of beings | |
| We once lost our wings | |
| And can't ignore the excruciating pain of a grounded life | |
| We are within the nonsense of a larger plan | |
| Worthy of some salt pouring on a bloodied part | |
| Sonority Divine! | |
| Positive feelings made this frustration vanish | |
| In a shout of pure energy | |
| To blend is not to bend | |
| To be is one two three | |
| Impulsions on the throne | |
| Choices for you alone | |
| The earth is not round | |
| Sans même user de paroles intelligibles, | |
| Ils se comprenaient tous | |
| Alignés du même coté de la démence temporaire | |
| Ces sons qui salivent de sens éparpillés | |
| Signalaient un état d'esprit intense et implacable | |
| And in view of that case | |
| The oracle declared | |
| That it would be more pleasant to be naturalized | |
| Than to make conversation | |
| With a blind beholder in need of affection | |
| Only to find the same patterns on the fast lane |
| They twist and tangle in this circle of sand | |
| Unclassified | |
| They crawl up the walls everywhere, without precisions | |
| Shapes in a giant bunny' s cranium | |
| Hopping and irresolute | |
| Unsolved ideas of a distorted guest | |
| No justifications, for these flavors are tasty passages | |
| The pleasure of sharing a so special collection | |
| If only I had some mechanical apparatus | |
| Involved with my torso | |
| My personal darkness would fade out to the nine winds | |
| Blown away by grafting cells | |
| She tasted spontaneity with an honorable mission in mind | |
| Just to spit out intense squares of uncolored ink | |
| In the face of a pulsating mass of flesh | |
| Talking nonsense on its throne | |
| Damn well she did! | |
| And in view of that case | |
| The oracle declared | |
| That it would be more pleasant to be naturalized | |
| Than to make conversation | |
| With a blind beholder in need of affection | |
| Only to find the same patterns on the fast lane | |
| We are within the nonsense of a larger plan | |
| Worthy of some salt pouring on a bloodied part | |
| Merry, merry, joy, joy! | |
| A nice and pleasant dip in an acid pool | |
| Don' t you see my smile? | |
| I just glow with derision! | |
| Or perhaps my eyes, turning pitch black | |
| Only want to pierce these dense walls all around me | |
| They always do when sarcasm is on the verge of punching a wellearned goal | |
| Horns and screams are tools | |
| For the altered thoughts of an attitude | |
| Rooted in multiple layers of beings | |
| We once lost our wings | |
| And can' t ignore the excruciating pain of a grounded life | |
| We are within the nonsense of a larger plan | |
| Worthy of some salt pouring on a bloodied part | |
| Sonority Divine! | |
| Positive feelings made this frustration vanish | |
| In a shout of pure energy | |
| To blend is not to bend | |
| To be is one two three | |
| Impulsions on the throne | |
| Choices for you alone | |
| The earth is not round | |
| Sans m me user de paroles intelligibles, | |
| Ils se comprenaient tous | |
| Aligné s du m me coté de la dé mence temporaire | |
| Ces sons qui salivent de sens é parpillé s | |
| Signalaient un é tat d' esprit intense et implacable | |
| And in view of that case | |
| The oracle declared | |
| That it would be more pleasant to be naturalized | |
| Than to make conversation | |
| With a blind beholder in need of affection | |
| Only to find the same patterns on the fast lane |