(cøffin fløwer)

[Interlude] The night creeps through the wasteland You were my favorite dead end The vampires are crying through the streets The moon and all his lies The sandman stole my eyes Life is likely never as it seems I lost a lover when I found love Lost my belief when I became God I stopped talking to you When the words fell for my poem I lost my friends when I found ghosts Lost my home when I became my own Lost my name and found mysеlf FLØRE's fløwers grow from the dead