| Give me silence! |
| Give me some truce!
|
| Let us be evasive! |
| Nevermind the truth!
|
| They say slaves speak of bravery
|
| As swine speak of flying
|
| Surely now we’re done speaking
|
| We’re done lying
|
| Our flowers are blue
|
| Our eyes still wounded by sleep
|
| Death, the spanish drummer
|
| Has had us moan, has had us weep
|
| Our flowers are blue
|
| Our eyes still wounded by sleep
|
| Death, the spanish drummer
|
| Has had us moan, has had us weep
|
| Our hearts still free
|
| Our word still alive
|
| Even though the world
|
| Has us run and hide
|
| They say rebels speak of loyalty
|
| As fish speak of flying
|
| Surely, we know better
|
| For now we’re here to do the dying
|
| Our flowers are blue
|
| Our eyes still wounded by sleep
|
| Death, the spanish drummer
|
| Has had us moan, has had us weep
|
| Our flowers are blue
|
| Our eyes still wounded by sleep
|
| Death, the spanish drummer
|
| Has had us moan, has had us weep
|
| This is my offer
|
| Illusion, aimlessness
|
| In return teach me
|
| How to tolerate
|
| A life of despair
|
| Our flowers are blue
|
| Our eyes still wounded by sleep
|
| Death, the spanish drummer
|
| Has had us moan, has had us weep
|
| Our flowers are blue
|
| Our eyes still wounded by sleep
|
| Death, the spanish drummer
|
| Has had us moan, has had us weep |