All we had intertwined
But that was our crime
So deny, deny, deny
Don't worry I'll be fine

You became a fantasy
You planted a seed that bloomed into a flower
It grew tall and colorful
Oh it was wonderful
But like the busy man
You had other deeds to tend to
Your first rose grew thorns and pricked you
So now some other tends to it not knowing of the pain it shall bring
While your second rose you neglect
It longs for your tending love
And you believe it to be strong on its own
But in reality it gets weaker as the days pass
You leave it in the care of no one
When the petals fall and it's leaves begin to wilt
You pay no mind
You see the weeds begin to choke its roots but instead of tending to it
You leave it be
The flower holds on for dear life hoping one day, maybe one day, the tender man will tend to its needs...

We gave it a shot
and as the medicine cooled and chilled the veins
it mended the illness pooled within
and oh what rush
but as the days past there was a need
a need for more
the darkness was seeping back in
and only doses where given
minimal but satisfying
heart-wrenching but heart-mending
what better medicine then love
oh but in truth what worse
It clings to the heart
and intwines itself with all that it surrounds
once those doses are up  
the pain floods back in
the shakes
the pit
the tears
are what take over
they devour whats left
and shrivel you up
and take its place as that constant cycle
reminding what life is like
pain filled and alone
"try again" it’ll tease
but instead you’ll cower and hide
in your defeat
"this my surrender" you’ll say
and hope to God you’ll listen.