Death is your art. You make it with your hands day after day. That final gasp, that look of peace. And part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret. Not the punch you didn't throw or the kicks you didn't land. She really wanted it. Every Slayer has a death wish. Even you.
Spike ,'Conversations with Dead People'
Buffista Music 1: The Music (And Who Can Blame It) Swells
There's a lady plays her fav'rite records On the jukebox ev'ry day. All day long she plays the same old songs, And she believes the things that they say.
She sings along with all the saddest songs, And she believes the stories are real. She let's the music dictate the way that she feels.