Rosey red, pricked thorned pedals from stem to stem
Almost as if it were as beautiful in a field of only one shiny ruby gem,
The deep red of scarlet, overpowers the galently green
The lovely fume scent of deep rose in a garden in which was seen;
The fact of glaring away in the garden of red, indeed I was condemn,

In the rain of a storm, even in the heavy snow they still would stand,
These elegant roses indeed were never bland,
I once there stood and had seen, and smell the roses of deep red;
And even still I love the rosey red, prickled thorned pedals from stem to stem,

Even in the fog of darkest, deepest night they still would appear
Screaming out in love and beauty, as if it was there nature of cheer,
The garden of red was strongest among all,
The thorns beneath would strike back with fierce standing small
When they would die, I would wait for them to grow again;
Growing again the rosey red, prickled thorned pedals from stem to stem