The Language Of Sin Was

I'll Take The Shooting. I'm Used To That. I've Been Shot A Few Times In The Past, And I Guess I Can Stand It, Again.

Work And Pray, Live On Hay, Youll Get Pie In The Sky When You Die.

You Loved Me As Hard As You Knew How. I'd Give Anything To Go Back And Love You Better.

Her Sanity Was A Fragile Thing, A Butterfly Cupped In Her Hands, That She Carried With Her Everywhere, Afraid Of What Would Happen If She Let It Go-or Got Careless And Crushed It.

The Language Of Sin Was Universal, The Original Esperanto.