(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