| Song | Flowers Are Slow |
| Artist | Nekromantix |
| Album | Life Is A Grave & I Dig It |
| 作曲 : Gaarde, Martinez, Russel | |
| There's a seed on Satan's lawn, | |
| In the heat it grows so strong, | |
| Eternal Anguish, | |
| On this lawn where we belong, | |
| Be cautious watch your step, | |
| And don't awake the wrath and hate, | |
| Don't fall behind, | |
| Keep it up and tag along, | |
| There's no chance for escape, | |
| From this the dark lord's estate, | |
| You better swallow your pride, | |
| And accept your fate, | |
| The poisoned soil of pain, | |
| Keeps you confined in his domain, | |
| Don't ever trust a snake's advise, | |
| Bite the apple let the nightmares materialize! | |
| See them suffer, hear them shriek, | |
| Roses might be pretty, but they're also weak, | |
| The smell is sweet, but leaves a bitter taste, | |
| Flowers are slow, weeds make haste, | |
| There's a seed on Satan's lawn, | |
| More powerful than any thorn, | |
| It grows, apace, | |
| and feeds on grief and mourn | |
| There's no way you can hide, | |
| In this field of beezlebub, | |
| You better get past your suburbia, | |
| and join the club! |
| zuò qǔ : Gaarde, Martinez, Russel | |
| There' s a seed on Satan' s lawn, | |
| In the heat it grows so strong, | |
| Eternal Anguish, | |
| On this lawn where we belong, | |
| Be cautious watch your step, | |
| And don' t awake the wrath and hate, | |
| Don' t fall behind, | |
| Keep it up and tag along, | |
| There' s no chance for escape, | |
| From this the dark lord' s estate, | |
| You better swallow your pride, | |
| And accept your fate, | |
| The poisoned soil of pain, | |
| Keeps you confined in his domain, | |
| Don' t ever trust a snake' s advise, | |
| Bite the apple let the nightmares materialize! | |
| See them suffer, hear them shriek, | |
| Roses might be pretty, but they' re also weak, | |
| The smell is sweet, but leaves a bitter taste, | |
| Flowers are slow, weeds make haste, | |
| There' s a seed on Satan' s lawn, | |
| More powerful than any thorn, | |
| It grows, apace, | |
| and feeds on grief and mourn | |
| There' s no way you can hide, | |
| In this field of beezlebub, | |
| You better get past your suburbia, | |
| and join the club! |