Rozz Williams - Flowers

This is my favourite sad story,
Forget me not or I'll forget myself
I've got quite a few things that I'm afraid of
sometimes I just can't face myself
This is my favorite sad story,
Forget me not or I'll forget myself.
I guess I'll tuck myself away tonight,
you know it's been one of those days.

Every pretty flower,
every lovely flower,
every deadly flower
hides its light inside of shame.

I do not know why you don't know,
I cannot reap what you have sown
Beneath this blanket of loose soil,
wrapped around my mortal coil.

Well a stem is not a rose,
but that's how my garden grows.
I can't see the forest for the trees,
the stinking poison for disease
Now it's all shot to hell and back again.
I seek redemption for the
same old sins and I fall on my knees,
And I pray that all the poppies they
they will just fade away.
But fields of poppies they remain.
That's how they found me last time, dead

This is my favorite sad story,
forget me not or I'll forget myself.
I've got quite a few things that I'm afraid of,
sometimes I just won't face myself.
This is my favorite sad story,
forget me not or I'll forget myself
I guess I'll just tuck myself away tonight
you know its been one of those days.

Every pretty flower,
every lovely flower,
every deadly flower,
hides its light inside of shame.

I do not know why you don't know,
I cannot reap what you have sown,
Beneath this blanket of loose soil,
wrapped around my mortal coil.

Irises lay in spring mud,
where lovers drown each other's sorrows,
Where lovers dream about tomorrows.
As for me I drown another kind as
sadness runs course through my veins.
Posie wreaths they crown me.
My heart, My heart
I should just fade away, fade away
Like a flower...

The Sisters of Mercy - 1959

Living as an angel in the
Place that I was born
Living on air
Living in heaven
Giving the lie down, the line
To the
Theres my heaven

And I know
Which way the wind blows
In nineteen fifty-nine

Which way the wind blows
In nineteen fifty-nine

And the wind blows still
And the wind blows wild again
For a little child an never kill this clean
This way
And it feels like me today
Tell me
Do you feel the same?
Isabelle?
Or do you feel like nineteen fifty-nine?
...do you feel like nineteen fifty-nine?

And the wind blows wild again
And the wind blows wild

In nineteen fifty-nine
In fifty-nine
Isabelle
Do you, do you fell the same?

Come with me
Like a little child
Like another gun
Like homeless, restless, known to none, like
Way beyond the line
Like it never was
In nineteen fifty-nine