a Father Holding his child's hand,
As he's taking her home
But The Child See's A pretty flower laying on the road
The Father saying not to touch it and leave it alone
But the child doesn't listen,
She let's go.
She picks up the flower, but it had thorns
As she is distracted by the pain she hears a loud horn
Infront of her coming faster than she could pray
She gets bumped into a lake - drowning in her own mistakes