Some flowers are telling different stories
Some leafs won't know the truth
And the birds, well they only tell their own meaning
So how do I know which flower to pick?
Some trees can feel my worries
Some twigs just don't snap
And I, I still don't know if I can pick the most beautiful flower
Sometimes, that makes me sick
This flower I am talking about
It's a beautiful red rose
Allthough I'm totally blinded by it's beauty
The thorns tell me not to touch it
This flower brings me in a doubt
I think it just smiled at me
I cannot risk the chance to break the stalk
So this flower won't be the one I'll grow old with