• Such a beautiful thing to throw away

    A rose of black tears full of my pain

    Falling apart of the sorrow you inflict in me

    Cause this is not who I use to be

    I show and display, a rose of white smiles

    But these colors are just not my style

    Cause it makes me feel like all the rest

    For all these colors I shine are surly not the best

    I feel alone, now no one can figure me out

    Never telling what my dieing heart of these broken petals are all about.

    If you listen and hear me I let you know that when I am dead in a grave of black lily pads unannounced

    Right then and there in the rain over my grave of deathly beauty you’ll finally figure it out.

    What I was tiring to shout about

    Yet my word were never heard even when I was reaching out

    For you to grasp my hand into your helping guidance of you heart and loving soul

    Though that had been what I thought of you in the beginning but now to me your worth nothing more than a whole

    With out the mask were will thy hide

    From me locked up inside

    Inside I will stay

    A cast off from the out side world I once new

    Day after a depressing day

    Wishing for one day I could have those ideas and imaginary thoughts that flew

    Past the ice-cream mountain and chocolate sky in a rose castle in the sea

    With cinnamon houses and liquorish trees

    For some day this locked soul of mine of morbid petals on the floor

    manicured with my bloody self for the freedom I hope for day after day more and more

    So with that can you take me to a world with our anything that would remind me that I am different

    that what I am is a monster of others ignorance

    Cause I am no monster, true as could be

    For my friend am just different from what you see

    From what you encounter past the meadows of bliss and lilacs is were I am me

    With you as a friend with no site to see what blood I have shed upon myself and the lands on were I sand free

    So what you have showed me, that I will never be a monster ever or to be.

    With a knife in my hand ready to strike for my last breath for me

    But so not stop me for it is ment to be