My love for you is like a rose,
A red rose,
Red as a blood moon,
Real as a flower bloom,
Pain is a real thing,
Real as the red dripping from the red rose,
Dripping in droplets, thick as blood,
The blood -- flowing through my veins, my chest ripped open, as it pours onto the rose, that which represents my love for you
The pain I've endured for you,
The rose was once white, no more,
Now it is red from the very blood in my veins, out of my chest, for you
When will you see what I do for you? I make sacrifices, as you should do, too.
