� Beautiful little demons Playing in the forest They don't care about tomorrow They don't care about yesterday Then a priest stands in the street Tell them to kill everyone Tell the children to kill everyone Mother, father, you will all die If he gets all of you If you all die Give your life, give everything And you will save the children Bitches From sugar, cinnamon From ink and flowers From foreign drugs The dog barks from the stairs Black and white, Finnish wine The traumas of the dead Touching each other's backs Working, fleeing, traveling In the forest Torn to shreds To the left, to the right To the left, to the right To the left, to the right To the left, to the right To the left, to the right To the left, to the right Bitches Beautiful little demons Playing in the forest They don't care about tomorrow They don't care about yesterday I come from Lutka I come from Putka I come from Tuska I come from Paska If you can't see me, look at me If you can't see me, look at you Between us, a hundred thousand years Between us, doors are open I don't have anything, I'm just a piece of *** I don't have anything, I'm just a piece of *** There was too little bread to eat There was too much to eat and drink Too many songs for my parents Too little warmth for my arms I'm from where you can't go From where the planes don't fly From where my mom is hustling From where you wait in heaven Bitches