Bleeding Roses

eyes meet, lives discreet

never leaving, left to chance

circles alined, in a water blue glance

birds don't sing, flowers don't bloom

under the stars and down in your room

the tigers you've skinned and the crustaceans you've cast out

only add to this everpresent gift of the shadow of doubt

cover me up so the world will not know

place of hiding, my tracks will not show

dodging trains to stay awake

and there is just one thing that i wish to take

already dead roses, given for show

the things we remember

and the things we don't know

the places we're both heading

and the places we won't go

the lives we defend

and the seperation we pretend

the beating hearts that won't stay still

beyond our regret and the better half of our will

paper trees

or plastic roses

take your pick miss fickly fish

plastic roses never die

but they aren't really real no matter what we both will wish

and you wouldn't trade your blood for anything

but you'd have given it freely with a prick and a sting

of the thorns of the red rose

sad enough as is

and the end we have chose

sad enough as is

and the things we lose

sometimes we don't choose

but there's so much more that needs to be

but i'll miss those blues as the last thing i see

roses are red

our eyes are blue

i wouldn't trade my blood for anything

except a real rose for you

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