That the flowers must die
Flowers must die
I feel that the flowers must die
I see when I come back
From my lysergic daydream
Standing in the middle
Of the glass and neon forest
With an unhappy name: City
City, city, city, city

Flowers must die
And I feel that I die too
With a dusty flower
I feel like an ill child
From the universe
A lost God in the dust of the city
A lost God in the dust of the, of the city

Flowers must die
After the great asphalt kiss
One of the fathers of my horror
Making money, unliving theatre
I'm not machine-addict
I like the people
I like the people around me
I like the people around me
Without open soul in the city
City, city, city, city

Flowers must die
The lost children of colour
The diamonds of my trip
The diamonds of my trip
And when they are gone
I want to be a stone
I want to be a stone
Not living, not living, not living, not living
Not thinking, not thinking, not thinking, not thinking, not thinking
A thing without warm blood
A thing without warm blood in the city

Nobody knows, -body knows, -body knows
And I'm on the right way
And I say
Flowers must die
Flowers must die
Flowers must die
The Flowers must die
Die, die, die...

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