She came in the spring,
New and beautiful,
Untainted and faithful,
A lone rose in the urban world,
But like all roses she will wilt and die,
Like all children of the woods,
She will move to the city and sigh,
To grow old, have a family,
Live a standard life to finally die,
Where her heart of gold,
And her soul of silver will be set free,
She was so golden and new,
But like all gold she will rust,
Then she will lose her shine,
She is like you and me,
Who we're all just trying to be,
She is like millions all over this world,
For she is ordinary, just another pretty girl.
