Dreams of pale roses and a love so overgrown.
I can tell you it won't last past morn!
Cut the excess, too much will kill, but not too much or you'll be alone.
Cut the thorns, for your safety I don't condone.
Cut your neck, for I will usurp the throne!
Cut their love and watch them throw their stones!
Their burning hatred so strong it will burn your bones!
Watch as this pale rose, rises!
Winning this agone!
No more of you, for your legacy is gone!