| Jellyfish | |
| Spilt Milk | |
| Glutton Of Sympathy | |
| In the breathless hush of 4 a.m. | |
| In the dark sits a sad cliche. | |
| Cloaked in the navy blue of slowly fading stars | |
| Tell me how this came to be | |
| Sleeplessness talk to me | |
| She'd say over and over again | |
| Fumbling through a cut glass vase | |
| Passing lipstick, cotton spools | |
| Burning jealous pictures of marraiges of friends | |
| You never asked to be | |
| The glutton of sympathy | |
| She says over and over again that this is the end | |
| Cause I see it in your eyes | |
| What you don't know, time to let go | |
| I see it in your eyes | |
| There is so much more out there to be learned | |
| Such mournful words on this snowwhite vacant page | |
| All the lessons that she learns she packs away | |
| Will you never cease to be the glutton of sympathy | |
| She writes over and over again | |
| Tossing turning roll away | |
| Indescision won't you ever make up your mind | |
| Lifetime Nightime wake the day | |
| Cause tomorrow will see if you've had your fill of sympathy | |
| Will you never cease to be the glutton of sympathy? | |
| Don't you know the stars are all fading let the sunshine capture the sparkle | |
| of your smile |
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