Covered the carca** of time with flowers.
To send the scent of blame to the grave.
Set the darkest thoughts on fire and watch the ashes climb to heaven's gates.
We hide behind the crimson door while the summer isk**ed by the fall alive.
Behind the crimson door while the winter sings:
"Your love will be the d**h of me."
d**h served wine for lovers brought from the wrold where devils reign
And intoxicated angels with sorrow.
They witnessed in the yes of their slaves.