She was the color of TV Her mouth curled under like a metal snake Although Holy Wood was sad They'd remember this as Valentine's Day Flies are waiting In the shadow of the valley of death In the shadow of the valley of death Slit our wrists, and send us to heaven The first flower after the flood I saw the pregnant girl today She didn't know that it was dead inside Even though it was alive Some of us are really born to die Flies are waiting In the shadow of the valley of death In the shadow of the valley of death Slit our wrists, and send us to heaven No first flower after the flood In the shadow of the valley of death In the shadow of the valley of death
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