Rose can I come down for a drink, it's happened again. I've got a story that's so written poorly, I'll begin at the end. Rose you must know, I couldn't find the words that it takes to say stay. Now she's gone away.
Rose can I come down to your garden, I can only wheel flowers. Bring me your shovel there's a heart to be buried and a body as well. Your letters are tied, with a strand of your hair; in a breast pocket safe, they keep talking. Now I wake up alone with my eyes to the floor and I see where my night will end weeping once more.
Rose can I come down to your rose bed to lay in your thorns. Now I am empty so much is buried I will not be born. Rose you must know, I felt more than I said. Now I've got all the words and no one. Now the hole has been dug and I'm down on my knees. Rain make us mud, and Spring we bloom as one.