The Phoenix Must Burn To

At Every Moment, Each Instrument Knew What To Play. Its Little Bit. But None Could See The Whole Thing Like This, All At Once, Only Its Own Part. Just Like Life. Each Person Was Like A Line Of Music, But Nobody Knew What The Symphony Sounded Like. Only The Conductor Had The Whole Score.

Echo, The Death Of A Sound That Had Nowhere To Go But To Come Back.

They Say Drugs Are Not The Answer, But Really, What Is The Question?

She Was Not Used To Being Cruel, But He Had Taught Her How.

Let Me Tell You A Few Things About Regret. There Is No End To It. Do You Regret The Beginning Which Ended So Badly, Or Just The Ending Itself?