| Song | Lies of Autumn |
| Artist | Lamb of God |
| Album | Burn the Priest |
| As the leaves fall yellowing like aged paper, thoughts turn acrid and curl like cigarette smoke rising from a butt ground out on my arm. | |
| Step into this decay and experience dissolution. | |
| Crucified on a plank of cruelty, crucified on a plank of apathy to sleep the winter away. | |
| Immobile for the cold duration. | |
| Huddled in isolation, to sleep the winter away. |