Twenty one roses.
Twenty one days.
Everyday a rose will go up in flames
and everyday i drink tell i can't remember my name.
They might say it's the only thing that keeps me sane.
As i watch the rose burning,
begging for rain.
I smoke my last in the pack
my lungs fill with the smoke
slowly turning black.
Just like the roses i burn to a crisp
reminding me of your burning lips
your hands you placed on my hips
our fiery kiss.
The unburnt rose's bliss.
Inside me you ignited a spark
which led to a fire in my heart,
one you never extinguished.
Now i sit here in anguish.
It's November fifth,
this day last year you kissed my lips.
With rose's i'm down to my sixth.
The fire in me wouldn't let me sleep
for in my heart it was buried deep.
And the thought of you only makes it grow,
burning me up everyday oh so slow.
I decided to put of the fire
so i lite the six up,
then stood on my balcony in the rain
a smile forming on my face.
Then i heard the door bell ring
opened it and saw you with a dozen rose's, smiling.