Upon waking, I could smell the roses
Calling me to their thorns
I clutched one of them, and felt their pain
And asked God, 'Why was I born? '
And then, I saw the light above
The Sun, Moon, and Stars
I felt the ground beneath my feet
And history showed me scars.
Scars of men, gathering roses
To place above their beds
In the slumbering sweetness of lust
The price of such, their heads
So, I gained knowledge, I knew fear
I walked a many miles
To find the answer lying still
Like angry crocodiles.
For, I am the answer, I am the ...
It was way down in the swampland,
Some called it a city.
The men were all hot, the women all cold,
and there wasn't no room for pity.
Well, you could have fun if you pulled it out your wallet,
but it didn't last long.
Before you knew it, you were swinging a hammer,
Trying to come up with something wrong.