The silence we've found always prouder than the voice you lost.
Clawing through words dropped from lips content with a last breath like a heretic.
Finding a dream of salvation;
a hint of reality too involved for imagination.
This will be a tribute to the years we've spent building so much nothing,
a homage to our hands lost to empty sounds.
The loudest days hiding hopeless eyes;
looking for a lifeline but only breaking ties.
We are so many lifetimes away from the one we want to be.
Take your place and play the part.
Wear your make-up like a weapon.
| 1 | Solanka |
| 2 | Patience and Prudence |
| 3 | Figure Eight |
| 4 | Pretty Picture Of A Broken Face |
| 5 | Better a Corpse Than a Nun |
| 6 | Finger Redux |
| 7 | Consonants |
| 8 | Frozen by Tragedy |
| 9 | Requiescat |
| 10 | In Memory of Morvern |