Lyrics
A withered rose,
Is lying there,
Beside her bed,
It’s hurting.
Marie’s confused,
At twenty one,
Afraid of what,
It’s learning.
Her mom comes in,
Unfolds a chair,
Extends her arms,
To hold her.
Marie admits,
She could no give,
The dying rose,
Its water.
More,
More,
More,
She must give more.
Give more.
More,
More,
More,
She must give more.
Give more.
She’s so tired.
Tired.
She’s so tired.
Tired.
She asks her mom,
To go away,
So she can leave,
Her boyfriend.
She cannot stand,
To see him try,
And take away,
Her poison.
Marie picks up,
Her phone and calls,
The boy who sent,
The flower.
I’m sorry Blane,
But this must end,
My thoughts have turned,
To sour,
War,
War,
War,
She lost the war.
The war.
War,
War,
War,
She lost the war.
The war.
She’s so tired.
Tired.
She’s so tired.
Tired.
PIANO SOLO
Getting excited,
Marie escapes from her bed,
Ready to leave with her knew direction,
Other boys she’ll give her affection,
Woah,
Woah.
Holding the door knob,
She hesitates to go through,
How would she feel if she loved another,
Maybe the love would teach her to water.
Woah,
Woah,
She’s so,
Tired,
Tired.
She’s so,
Tired,
Tired.
