• Oh rose, thou art sick.
    the invisible worm that flies throught the night,
    has found thy bed of crimson joy,
    and dark secret love, does thy life...
    destroy.

    to love a rose, so dearly
    is to want to care for it, and nurture it.
    oh rose, tell me why,
    the invisible worm that flies throught the night
    could not see the pain behind your eye
    as i say softly to you...
    goodbye.