| Noises | |
| Water | |
| The river runs into the dawn | |
| Discarded bones | |
| Reappear | |
| As time to love and time to hate | |
| Rush in my ears | |
| Where the elements descend | |
| Chance does not make change | |
| So all your worries where fake | |
| And I know just how you feel | |
| All this indifference | |
| In the world you made for her | |
| Lives on | |
| And now | |
| Words are slow | |
| The river runs the river knows | |
| So now it wants | |
| To get back to you | |
| Dull is the sum of misery | |
| They say give us flowers | |
| So we roll in the mud | |
| Every day that I burned | |
| How to do and not be done | |
| With the taste of ashes in a fire | |
| And I know just how you feel | |
| The indifference | |
| Every time you look away | |
| Mad and dead as nails | |
| I never even stopped | |
| And so it stopped for me | |
| The touch of its hand is memory | |
| A kiss to lead the blind | |
| In water I hear slamming of doors | |
| St. Christopher beneath the rocks | |
| An empty dream of summer fields of daisies | |
| Perfect endings | |
| Stingless and sane | |
| I want it now | |
| All good is hard |