About the flowers of spring in March shingly glow
Beneath the freezing blanket of a winter's tale
Ice piercing spears, reminders of death no more.
So let me lie and call death lovely in this hour,
I dream of it constantly, a heartbeat in a flower.
I dream about hurricanes and ravaging storms,
About heavy silver clouds looming above,
When thunder roars his name, drowning out my own
I dream of it constantly, of innocence reborn.
I dream of far away galaxies wheeling,
About star pimpled skies ceiling
Puppets on ill-intended strings,
I dream of it constantly, a soul purer than absinthe.
Beneath the freezing blanket of a winter's tale
Ice piercing spears, reminders of death no more.
So let me lie and call death lovely in this hour,
I dream of it constantly, a heartbeat in a flower.
I dream about hurricanes and ravaging storms,
About heavy silver clouds looming above,
When thunder roars his name, drowning out my own
I dream of it constantly, of innocence reborn.
I dream of far away galaxies wheeling,
About star pimpled skies ceiling
Puppets on ill-intended strings,
I dream of it constantly, a soul purer than absinthe.
So...this is the power of absinthe
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