| Song | Oval Shaped Incisions |
| Artist | Despised Icon |
| Album | The Ills Of Modern Man |
| 作曲 : Erian, Jarrin | |
| Estranged | |
| The bliss of a young man smoothly slivered in an instant | |
| Obscured memories puncture through an opaque blindfold | |
| Eyelids carved swiftly with oval shaped incisions | |
| A breach in one self's fortitude | |
| reveals a radiant smile struggling to resurface | |
| Nostalgia plays its snivelling violin | |
| I bleed pristine tears | |
| Recollections of the son I once was | |
| Stabbed my past with oxidized scissors and turned away | |
| Awake, to salvage what is left before it dies away | |
| An oath destined to be forgotten | |
| Strong words are nothing more than heartfelt clichés | |
| The times have changed and so have I | |
| Childhood dreams reduced to pale aspirations | |
| Familiar faces have shed their skin, | |
| Spawning a newfound identity | |
| A never ending pursuit of distinctiveness as blurred strenuous bonds in its path | |
| Awake, to salvage what is left before it dies away | |
| An oath destined to be forgotten | |
| Strong words are nothing more than heartfelt clichés |
| zuò qǔ : Erian, Jarrin | |
| Estranged | |
| The bliss of a young man smoothly slivered in an instant | |
| Obscured memories puncture through an opaque blindfold | |
| Eyelids carved swiftly with oval shaped incisions | |
| A breach in one self' s fortitude | |
| reveals a radiant smile struggling to resurface | |
| Nostalgia plays its snivelling violin | |
| I bleed pristine tears | |
| Recollections of the son I once was | |
| Stabbed my past with oxidized scissors and turned away | |
| Awake, to salvage what is left before it dies away | |
| An oath destined to be forgotten | |
| Strong words are nothing more than heartfelt cliché s | |
| The times have changed and so have I | |
| Childhood dreams reduced to pale aspirations | |
| Familiar faces have shed their skin, | |
| Spawning a newfound identity | |
| A never ending pursuit of distinctiveness as blurred strenuous bonds in its path | |
| Awake, to salvage what is left before it dies away | |
| An oath destined to be forgotten | |
| Strong words are nothing more than heartfelt cliché s |