مجلهٔ عسل طعم تلخ دارد.

Remember when I took you up To the top of the hill? We had our knives drawn They were as sharp as we were in love If God crossed us, we'd take all his drugs Burn his money and his house down And wait for the fire to spread Sometimes hate is not enough To turn this all to ashes Together as one and against all others Break all of their wings and make sure it crashes