| Song | Figurine |
| Artist | Die So Fluid |
| Album | The World Is Too Big For One Lifetime |
| Someone’s been sticking pins | |
| Into my waxen image. | |
| The further they get screwed in, | |
| The more I give up on living. | |
| All I ever learned from you | |
| Was how to satisfy a craving, | |
| To give in to desire when the pulse is fading. | |
| Figurine, spinning in endless motion. | |
| Does she look serene, ‘til the cold blooded dance is over. | |
| Guess you don’t know your own strength. | |
| Brittle bones lay broken. | |
| Hanging limp from a white fence. | |
| Head smashed gaping open. | |
| All I ever learned from you | |
| Was how to satisfy a craving, | |
| To give in to desire when the pulse is fading. | |
| Figurine, spinning in endless motion. | |
| Does she look serene, ‘til the cold blooded dance is done. | |
| In its presence we grow weak. | |
| In it’s absence seek its heat. | |
| Fire that purifies the soul. | |
| Cleanses and consumes us whole. | |
| Porcelain figurine | |
| Forever turning | |
| Fixed expression | |
| No emotion. | |
| All I ever learned from you | |
| Was how to satisfy a craving, | |
| To give in to desire when the pulse is fading. | |
| Figurine, spinning in endless motion. | |
| Does she look serene, ‘til the cold blooded dance is over. |
| Someone' s been sticking pins | |
| Into my waxen image. | |
| The further they get screwed in, | |
| The more I give up on living. | |
| All I ever learned from you | |
| Was how to satisfy a craving, | |
| To give in to desire when the pulse is fading. | |
| Figurine, spinning in endless motion. | |
| Does she look serene, ' til the cold blooded dance is over. | |
| Guess you don' t know your own strength. | |
| Brittle bones lay broken. | |
| Hanging limp from a white fence. | |
| Head smashed gaping open. | |
| All I ever learned from you | |
| Was how to satisfy a craving, | |
| To give in to desire when the pulse is fading. | |
| Figurine, spinning in endless motion. | |
| Does she look serene, ' til the cold blooded dance is done. | |
| In its presence we grow weak. | |
| In it' s absence seek its heat. | |
| Fire that purifies the soul. | |
| Cleanses and consumes us whole. | |
| Porcelain figurine | |
| Forever turning | |
| Fixed expression | |
| No emotion. | |
| All I ever learned from you | |
| Was how to satisfy a craving, | |
| To give in to desire when the pulse is fading. | |
| Figurine, spinning in endless motion. | |
| Does she look serene, ' til the cold blooded dance is over. |