There is a rose lying down
on the cobblestones of the center
She escaped from a bouquet
It wasn't in the mood for romance
The sensitivity spreads its wings,
A white swan sliding into darkness
on a lake that sparkles
In the moonlight.
There is a rose lying down
on the cobblestones of the center
She escaped from a bouquet
It wasn't in the mood for romance
The sensitivity spreads its wings,
A white swan sliding into darkness
on a lake that sparkles
In the moonlight.