FIRE... DETH by FUNERAL DINER I've mastered the art of small talk the bond of wet paper and a friendly gesture giving way to a colder stance a black lung full of feeling remember this he says the machine gives no response I choke on the memories the garbage piles up the machine feeds back he grins lightly and turns away another tree in the forest dies I sleep well beneath my apathy [ www.dailyrics.com ] FIRE...DETH by FUNERALDINER