Morsal

They will see
Your face in bloom
And the night
Will be no more
They know nothing
About your doom
They see you still
The way you’ve been
Before
So colourful
But the poison deep inside
Has spread
My rose
You wither with pride
You wither in grace
You turn your face
Towards the light
Your leaves start to fall
Again you’ll arise
After all
In broken china
You’re laid out
Like a floater
At the shore
In dead water
You will sprout
Even after they cut off
Your thorns
Defenseless
But morale deep inside
Has spread
My rose
You wither with pride
You wither in grace
You turn your face
Towards the light
Your leaves start to fall
Again you’ll arise
After all
My rose
You wither in grace
You wither with pride
Your leaves start to fall
But you keep your
Head up high…
My rose
You wither with pride
You wither in grace
You turn your face
Towards the light
Your leaves start to fall
Again you’ll arise
After all
My rose
You wither in grace
You wither with pride
Your leaves start to fall
But you keep your
Head up high…