The entwined roses’ thorns stab the black god of death and laughnnUnderneath the clock of the sunken moon, there is the sweet smell of bloodnThe wavering mayflies stand still, as if they’re petrifiednnWho is this god of death, who handed those people the pretty medicine they wished for?nnI’ll shout the curse of destructionnnShout & bitesnSo pretty that it’s dirtynShout & bitesnTo the top of the pale collarbonesnnThe entwined roses’ thorns stab the black god of death and laughnThe entwined roses’ poison soaks in nAh… I can’t sleepnnShout & bitesnSo pretty that it’s dirtynShout & bitesnTo the top of the pale collarbonesnnThe entwined roses’ thorns stab the black god of death and laughnThe entwined roses’ poison soaks in nI can’t sleepnThe entwined roses’nnThe entwined roses’ thorns stab the black god of death and laughnThe entwined roses’ poison soaks in nI can’t sleepn