I see fields of bloody lilies, blowing in the wind.

Bloody fields of green long past, and leaves fasting in-between.

I see fields of ruined flowers, like nothing's ever been.

Reddened pastures full of has-beens, and miseries never seen.

I still dream of pretty lilies, blowing in the wind.

Healthy fields of green well vivid, and leaves dancing in-between.

I still dream of pretty flowers, like all have ever been.

Real pastures without fissures, and joy without sin.