Sadistik & Kid Called Computer - Bed of Flowers lyrics

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Sadistik & Kid Called Computer - Bed of Flowers lyrics

Tick tick boom, everybody running from a sick sick goon with a lit wick fuse Cause this is me yo, this is you now A pretty little devil in a business suit dress All black, stock mask and a couple MAC 11s that he kept co*ked back For the contact list of the kids Sean pa**ed 'Cause he never got to get a little bliss, all laughs Admitted culprit, he etched his name on some bullets As he filed down the trigger that's quicker when he would pull it He cracks as a smile as he sauntered down the hall And just fired at the occupants and started singing 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? Now with both guns drawn, no one gets to wonder why he'd go nuts for They just go run towards the sun, but blood Is covering the windows of the closed-up doors And everybody's screaming, thinking that they can get away from anything And everything now resembled And when that smoke left the barrel it looked like flower petals He thought about his mother, brother & sister And 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 grimace When he shot himself to finish it And dropped a note that said: "My bed of flowers is covered in dying tulips in jumbled poses And tightened nooses made from the crumpled roses I hold the messages inside rhododendrons and violets And view irises through blue irises I broke the daisies next and sliced a narcissus I'm a narcissist who's been choking on my baby's breath And I might breathe If I withstand it from the crysanthemums inside my poison IVs" 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? 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