| Song | City Calls |
| Artist | Swan Lake |
| Album | Beast Moans |
| Oh the city calls its wild wastesits fortressed breeze to help | |
| In the park was | |
| Caravaggio's | |
| Christwho fucked the police and put an end to the price of automobile radio heists | |
| And did you want to help did you think you'd help? | |
| But your help was a hurt | |
| A motivational welt | |
| Wounds and their salts"And the ill milk in your bonesand you whisper to your kneesand your two broken collarbones:You want to take a photograph then take a photograph of me!" |