I picked a lovely berry
I picked it just for you
I picked it, feeling merry
Yes, I picked it just for you

It's just a little ****
Hardly very sweet
I picked it all apart
And offered it as a treat

Ah, I love the color
I love the pink and black
I think I'll pick some more
And eat a tasty snack

But, oh, I have forgotten
About the prickly thorns
My mood is rendered rotten
As my hand is raked in scorn

Now the black is shrouded
Painted in a glistening red
My eyes become clouded
From the drops that I have bled

Oh, I picked a horrid berry
I picked it just for you
I picked it, feeling dreary
Yes, I picked it without a clue