| Song | Oh K.S.S.T. |
| Artist | Calories |
| Album | Adventuring |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Blood on the stone | |
| Blood from the stone the young boy kissed it | |
| Pot of gold | |
| Quest for the coast to snag the linchpin | |
| Any day any day we’ll meet in dark lands | |
| Heathens say heathens say we’ll never meet you | |
| Echoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees | |
| They don’t believe! | |
| Churches are buried so deep that grounds release | |
| Body’s trapeze! | |
| Hands in the air hands in the air these ghostly starlings | |
| Anywhere any day we ever dreamed up | |
| What it is anything to never speak of? | |
| Walking lines treading wilds of natures districts | |
| Echoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees | |
| They don’t believe! | |
| Churches are buried so deep that the grounds release | |
| Body’s trapeze! |
| Blood on the stone | |
| Blood from the stone the young boy kissed it | |
| Pot of gold | |
| Quest for the coast to snag the linchpin | |
| Any day any day we' ll meet in dark lands | |
| Heathens say heathens say we' ll never meet you | |
| Echoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees | |
| They don' t believe! | |
| Churches are buried so deep that grounds release | |
| Body' s trapeze! | |
| Hands in the air hands in the air these ghostly starlings | |
| Anywhere any day we ever dreamed up | |
| What it is anything to never speak of? | |
| Walking lines treading wilds of natures districts | |
| Echoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees | |
| They don' t believe! | |
| Churches are buried so deep that the grounds release | |
| Body' s trapeze! |
| Blood on the stone | |
| Blood from the stone the young boy kissed it | |
| Pot of gold | |
| Quest for the coast to snag the linchpin | |
| Any day any day we' ll meet in dark lands | |
| Heathens say heathens say we' ll never meet you | |
| Echoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees | |
| They don' t believe! | |
| Churches are buried so deep that grounds release | |
| Body' s trapeze! | |
| Hands in the air hands in the air these ghostly starlings | |
| Anywhere any day we ever dreamed up | |
| What it is anything to never speak of? | |
| Walking lines treading wilds of natures districts | |
| Echoes that mellow the clutches of fallen trees | |
| They don' t believe! | |
| Churches are buried so deep that the grounds release | |
| Body' s trapeze! |