I consulted my spiritual sense, The dagger pointed to my heart This could mean my life's in danger, Or perhaps that I'll fall in love... I hope my life's in danger. There is a rose that is love that is a rose, And thorns on the rose of love. The beauty may be stunning, But do not pick the rose, For you shall feel its thorns. Blood is blue as sorrow until it is spilled, Then it becomes red as a rose, As a rose that is love that is a rose. Roses spilled across the streets, The sidewalks, the houses, watch your step Or you will become the next victim, Next victim of the rose, Of the rose that is love that is a rose. You miscalculated, You slipped and fell into the roses, You are bleeding. I try to catch you, but you are confused, And you slip through my hands. You wish to stay near the beauty, Despite the blood that flows, Flows red as a rose, As a rose that is blood that is a rose.
FN Pixie · Sun Apr 20, 2008 @ 03:34pm · 0 Comments |