Lyrics
We grow like fatale flowers in dirt of heart and brain. I'm closing into madness, paranoia strikes again. Prepared for your wild flowers,prepared for something new. The white suns of the moon at midday, abizarre view. I hear the distant echoes of silver gilded dogs, theisland of flowers, the cloud's a lake of snow. I'm a fly in a sunbeamon your wall moving motionless. Nothing is for sure, is it just sweetlack of awareness or revolutionary dreams. I'm a fly in a sunbeam onyour wall moving motionless. Nothing is for sure, is it just sweetlack of awareness or revolutionary dreams.
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