Watch the world from stairs of the altar
Twenty steps, you crumble and falter
Painted soul, the heart of an artist
Prophet lips that sing of the farthest
Catacombs, the gypsies, the muses
Holy wine, she drinks then refuses
Starlight tide, a dark constellation
In the end, The birth of a nation
Slide down the sun
With a dozen bleeding flowers
And a gun
I’ll be the pistol in your rose,
I’m gonna pull the trigger when your petals close
I am the pistol in your rose
I’m gonna pull the trigger when your petals close
Ooh oooh
Ooh oooh
I am the pistol in your rose
Charming me while your tears are falling
Take me where the last drop is crawling
Hear my words, the final cotillion
String your harp inside my pavillion
Lead me from the sea to the harbor
Shield me with a heart made of armor
Darkness calls for Roman advances
Cities burn, igniting romances
Slide down the sun
With a dozen bleeding flowers
And a gun
I’ll be the pistol in your rose,
I’m gonna pull the trigger when your petals close
I am the pistol in your rose
I’m gonna pull the trigger when your petals close
Ooh oooh
Ooh oooh
I am the pistol in your rose
Carry me to my home
Lay me down on a bed of stone
And my bones, they will remain
In the arms of the catacombs
‘cause I’m gonna be a ghost
I'll be the pistil in your rose
And I’m gonna pull the trigger
When your petals close

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS