Текст: Pig Destroyer. Honeymoon.

I always thought it fitting
The way they chose the next victim
With a bouquet of dying flowers
And how happy they appeared
As they ducked into the smiling hearse

But I quite fancied them losing their lifeblood
In a hotel room somewhere with a lot of palm trees
Because eventually they will see that our weaknesses are all
It takes to make the most divine of flowers wither