| Don’t stray from the path
|
| The good people say
|
| Well, she never did
|
| But in a dark grove she lay
|
| The snow, it was falling
|
| As a stranger passed by
|
| And gazed right into
|
| Her lifeless, little eyes
|
| There was something about her
|
| The good people say
|
| Rumours start spreading
|
| Once started, they’ll stay
|
| She went with the wolves
|
| A whisper goes round
|
| That her pale skin was ripped and torn
|
| The night she was found
|
| And on her bare breast
|
| A frozen flower lay
|
| It was a violet
|
| That’s what people say
|
| Violets were your favourite flowers
|
| You always smiled when I
|
| Gave them to you
|
| Now I stand at your grave
|
| Trembling for hours
|
| My numb hands clutch
|
| At frozen flowers
|
| But flowers won’t do
|
| No more smile comes from you…
|
| She was that kind of woman
|
| Man loves to adore
|
| But her tender kisses
|
| Left me longing for more
|
| I try to be humble
|
| The best that I can
|
| But there is a wolf
|
| Hiding in every man.
|
| It lies there waiting
|
| And when time is right
|
| Love turns to hunger
|
| In a dark grove at night.
|
| What difference does it make
|
| If you run, scream or cry?
|
| When a wolf has scented blood
|
| All that’s left is to die…
|
| Even if I placed a violet
|
| Into a cold hand
|
| Some things had to happen
|
| There’s no way to pretend
|
| Violets were your favourite flowers
|
| You always smiled when I
|
| Gave them to you
|
| Now I stand at your grave
|
| Shaking for hours
|
| My numb hands clutch
|
| At frozen flowers
|
| Violets, your favourite flowers
|
| You always smiled when I
|
| Gave them to you
|
| Now I stand at your grave
|
| And grief devours
|
| What’s left of my soul
|
| And the frozen flowers
|
| Those flowers won’t do
|
| No more smile comes from you… |