These are for you. These black roses have succumbed to time. There's blood on the petals but no tears in the blood. Not enough to make these flowers grow
Is this what you wanted? It's back to the pen for me. This picture that you've painted is all wrong. So I've smeared your dreams with black. I tore my
I wish you all the worst. These are not model citizens. This behavior is nothing to be proud of. They can't afford this. They can't afford me. As boys
If love is inspiration, I beg to differ. I wish you stopped breathing so I could fuck your cold dead brains out. It's like you whispered in my ear, "I
sometimes i smile for the dead while choking on the rust of sentiment when the hearse comes rolling in will the flowers be washed away when the hearse
she's like flowers on the pavement i smother them i feel wanted she's a silent film that never ends saw this coming from miles away these flowers are
[Instrumental]
Most people don't realize that two large pieces of coral painted brown and attached to his skull with common wood screws can make a child look like a
turn off the hallway light the sheets are covered in blood i wasn't here last night there's red lights and candle wax the air smells like death we breath
wish these were more than words take a bite of sympathy roll the dice what's it worth to me paradise serenity refuge from all deus creatures from myself
5am Sunday morning. Clothes reek of indecency squatting on the rooftop waiting for Jesus. He never came. Searching for something in a town full of nothing
By the way, I videotaped us fucking last night and sent a copy to your parents. I just thought I'd let you know.
my blood runs through your hands no more your white lies brought forth nothing you are not discontent life without a sign for you and for the first time
i'm sorry to say this.
Feed me your poison love character. So I can stand eye to eye with an angel. Your open arms leave me black eyed. I stirred this potion that put me under
i have seen this placebefore he said where people hurt themselves just for fun my memories are buried here under these rocks i begin to scream but hear
now that you're dead we're going to make a film of your life were you a ventriloquist or a poet and what we see you're very clever living in a glass house
[No lyrics.]
