Groomed a rose, with a hose,
Must've plucked it far too early.
Just a scent, was what I sensed,
Must’ve pierced the thorn left me gory.
What awaits a floe in the sea?
What awaits a floe but to melt in the sea?
I’m a minnow in the sea,
But a minnow in the sea.
Left to replace, this broken face,
Nothing but to cry in shame for me.
Can’t you hear the voice of fear?
All my heart if only she could see.