Bed Of Flowers
(专辑: The Art Of Dying - 2010)
Tick tick boom, everybody running from a
sick sick goon with a
lit wick fuse Cause this is me (no) this is you (yes) A
pretty little devil in a
business suit (dress) All black, stock mask and a
couple MAC 11s that he kept cocked back For the
contact list of the
kids Sean passed 'Cause he never got to get a
little bliss, all laughs Admitted culprit, he etched his name on some bullets As he filed down the
trigger that's quicker when he would pull it He cracks a
smile as he sauntered down the
hall And just fired at the
occupants and started singing Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers? Now with both guns drawn, no one gets to wonder why he'd go nuts for They just go run towards the
sun, but blood Is covering the
windows of the
closed-up doors And everybody's screaming thinking that they got to get away from anything And everything now resembled... And when that smoke left the
barrel it looked like flower petals He thought about his mother, brother, and sister And when he kissed her and hugged her to show he loved her and missed her... He closed his eyes as the
tears fell down his grimace When he shot himself to finish it ... and dropped a
note that said: "My bed of flowers is covered in dying tulips in jumbled poses And tightened nooses made from the
crumpled roses I
hold the
messages inside rhododendrons and violets And view irises through blue irises I
broke the
daisies next and sliced a
narcissus I'm a
narcissist who's been choking on my Baby's Breath And I
might breathe If I
withstand it from the
chrysanthemums inside my poison IVs" Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers now? Do you really want us to sleep in my bed of flowers? Are you prepared to wander through the
endless sea of a
thousand blind eyes; a
brazen routine filled with characters who will never know your name? Where you are nothing but an outcast, a
broken villain that the
zombies circumvent for the
sheer pleasure of avoiding eye contact? Will you fall asleep in a
bed of wilted roses? Do you really want to gather along the
path of a
man with nothing written across his calloused face but bitter memories in shaky, misspelled calligraphy? Because this, oh holy muses... this is his bed of flowers