V1.
White rose wilting, gripped with decay,
A Goddess bleeding from her thorn tourniquet,
She came weeping through the garden of pain,
A screaming beauty, screeching my name.
V2.
Lamentations on forgotten ways,
Words like razors, searing through veins,
She was lost in a thousand nightmares,
Weeping moth, under a burning stare.
CH.
The verses of the curses that strangle in the breeze,
(When will I be free)
But never if your clever you'll surrender to me,
(When will I be free)
The tempted lay tormented in the pure green grass,
(When will we be free)
And now, more than ever, the beautiful are unclean,
(Let light shine down, on me)
Bridge.
And in my dreams, I see an angel,
Shrouded in a cold imperfect world,
She looks at me, with eyes of winter,
Whispering slowly, what will become of me,
Through time an answer, spoken of present and past,
A world of riddles, of suits and masks,
The forest mist, obscuring our visions,
Wind blowing gently, her tears through the tree's.
V3.
White rose wilting, gripped with decay,
A Goddess bleeding from her thorn tourniquet,
She came weeping through the garden of pain,
A screaming beauty, screeching my name.
V4.
Lamentations on forgotten ways,
Words like razors, searing through veins,
She was lost in a thousand nightmares,
Weeping moth, under a burning stare.