| Song | Weltschmerz |
| Artist | Anne Clark |
| Album | Joined Up Writing |
| This is where silence runs its course | |
| And sadness wipes its eyes upon us | |
| We fall from a structure built on troubled minds | |
| My world becomes iron and grows as cold as Winter | |
| Soldiers in uniforms of nudity march over open hearts | |
| Sweetly and sickly scented by roses | |
| And your world is crushing you like those flowers | |
| By scripts written into your skin with the ink of thorns | |
| Ashen faces sink into silence | |
| All lonesome trends brush shoulders | |
| All of last night's degradation | |
| Builds foundations on us both |