The roses are red, and the violets are blue.
Honey is sweet, and so are you.
The roses have wilted, and the violets are dead.
The honey jar is empty, and the tiles are stained red.

I can't be your Valentine, I've fallen to the floor.
I took too many pills , but I told you, "I don't love you anymore."
When I look in the mirror; blue drains from my eyes.
When I look down; red drains from my thighs.

I've woken up in a hospital room.
I did not die, I failed, now I'm doomed.
I look around, and then I see.
I can not move, I can't get free.

They've bound me tight to the uncomfortable bed.
I see a mirror, when I look my eyes are red.
Puffy from the night before.
Crying drowsily on the bathroom floor.

I look up and see the light.
I wish I could reach, it's way too bright.
A nurse walks in and greats me good day.
I listen to him start to say...

"The roses may be wilted, and the violets may be dead,
there might not be honey left, but I can sill be your friend."