Sadistik
Bed of Flowers
[Verse 1]Tick tick boom, everybody running from a sick sick goon with a lit wick fuseCause this is me yo, this is you nowA pretty little devil in a business suit dressAll black, stock mask and a couple MAC 11s that he kept cocked backFor the contact list of the kids Sean passed'Cause he never got to get a little bliss, all laughsAdmitted culprit, he etched his name on some bulletsAs he filed down the trigger that's quicker when he would pull itHe cracks as a smile as he sauntered down the hallAnd just fired at the occupants and started singing[Chorus]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?[Verse 2]Letras de cancionesNow with both guns drawn, no one gets to wonder why he'd go nuts forThey just go run towards the sun, but bloodIs covering the windows of the closed-up doorsAnd everybody's screaming thinking that they got to get away from anythingAnd everything now resembled...And when that smoke left the barrel it looked like flower petalsHe thought about his mother, brother & sisterAnd 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 grimaceWhen he shot himself to finish it...and dropped a note that said:My bed of flowers is covered in dying tulips in jumbled posesAnd tightened nooses made from the crumpled rosesI hold the messages inside rhododendrons and violetsAnd view irises through blue irisesI broke the daisies next and sliced a narcissusI'm a narcissist who's been choking on my Baby's BreathAnd I might breatheIf I withstand it from the crysanthemums inside my poison IVs[Chorus][Outro]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 who has nothing written across his calloused face but bitter memories in shaky, misspelled calligraphy?Because this, oh holy muses... this is his bed of flowers.
From Letras Mania