The Roses

The roses are white, the roses are white
Silver demon appears with it's seductive call
Glints in the sunlight
Deep enough to sting but not end it all
Little drops appear two, three, four
I want to see all, need to see more
Make it deep enough to bleed more, but not make me dead
More drops appear two, three, four
I might be dead, I might be dead
But I don't care, I just want to stare
At this flower turning white to red
The roses are dripping, the roses are dripping
Two, three, four
Now more than ever I need to see more
So I dig deeper, live bait for Death
Out pour my sorrows, my secrets, my anger
Onto dripping red petals
The roses, the roses
I bleed them red and turn the black
Twist their beauty into anger
From fragileness to fury
I leave them crushed red, and dripping on the floor
The roses are dead, the roses are dead
And the silver demon is stained red