Drown your sorrow. Drown in sorrow. Random thoughts and the smell of summer. Some daisies for the bride. For the bride with the sad face. For the bride with the bloody veil. Can you hear the fiddlers? Can you hear the birds? Oh violate her grave. But what about the flowers? "What about the flowers?," she cried out. The tears were running down her cheeks, dropping from her white chin. Oh oh oh her cheeks were rosy. Rosy cheeks. The bride with the sad face with the rosy cheeks. The bride with the bloody veil. Dance. Dance. Dance because there won't be a tomorrow for you. Snow. Snow. Snow in summer? Where have the daisies gone? "Where are the daisies ?," she asked him with an anxious voice. Oh oh oh didn't she see the malice in his eyes? Oh she was always such a trustful little girl. And she's holding the bloody veil. Where are the daisies? She was always the young and innocent girl. I should have known. I should have known. She's putting a chain of daisies on her head. Sitting in the grass. Laughing. In her white dress. And the veil. She laughed at him. And then she didn't laugh anymore. She tried to scream when he forced her to the floor. When she felt his rough hands around her frail throat. The daisies. The daisies. Her pale eyes widened. She tried to breathe but his grip was too tight. Tears. Tears on her porcelain face. Tears like pearls. The Daisy chain falling off her head. Oh the daisies. Oh poor maid. Poor maid. On the meadow. On the meadow they found her. Her veil was bloody.