My decay started with the crimson petals;
Will I die with roses in my brain?
Why would a body jump out of a rose bush?
The shadow people are dancing in the dark.
They're saying,
"Why try so hard, just give up."
When will my time end?
What's the point of having a phone to call,
If no one picks up?
Depression makes me sleep too much;
I'm just like a decaying corpse,
whom has no breath to pick up,
the receiving line of the call.
It's like I have one hundred thorns,
stuck in my brain.
They say,
"The one who falls In love with the rose,
must learn how to grasp the thorns,"
and they're not wrong.
Drip, Drop.
Drip, Drop.
The petals fall away,
leaving behind crimson pricks,
from each of the thorns.
It turns out the roses wont cary me away.
I forgot how to grasp my own thorns one day.
When will my time end?
I'm starting to decay.
Call me throughout the day,
make sure I'm not gone away.
If I'm strong enough,
I'll answer.
If I'm too weak,
you'll know why I couldn't pick up today.
Please don't let my body
jump out of the rose bush,
not today.
I don't want to be taken away
by all the thorns in my brain.
I miss the roses,
but now their hidden in my head.
I guess you could call it safe keeping.
I hope that you don't find me dead.
Drip, Drop.
Drip, Drop.
The rose petals are falling away,
but I'll hold on,
just one more day.
