I always find the hungry men,
the wild men,
the ones who are barely restrained
And sometimes they lose control
and the fangs come out
and the claws slice
me into shiny little bits
Stain my petal-skin with blood.

I always find the hungry men,
who tear me apart night after night,
Who make me scream again and again
"Oh, please, not one more bite!"
I fear they will devour me
as they sip lightly on my nectar
But pleasure mixed with pain and fear -
Oh! Explosive, I cannot even think anymore!

I always find the hungry men,
Who make a flower bloom and bleed;
They tear me to bits and try not to breed,
*And in the morning I can still say
"Love."