Torture by Roses

Lost the will?

A germ in foreign blood

A glimmer of the past

Power and misery

Pathetic whore

To the ignorance of life

This is the best

It will ever be

Think of the things

That will never be

Sorrow, the empty well?

Hollow and useless

Consume to the inside

Something I will not hide

My love wilts on

My comrade in tragedy

This is the best

It will ever be

Think of the things

That will never be

Your image is burnt

You are dead

You are nothing

Yes, I love you