Nightingale and the Red Rose
Once upon a time, there was a bird who spoke of love
My nightingale believed in love, this magic she spoke of
Knowledge and philosophy is my true power
And yet my nightingale claimed that love is much stronger
I once did believe in love, this magic she sung of
I only knew the word of books, not the word of looks
Yet this this girl, this beautiful girl, brought my heart so close
She said that she would dance with me, for a crimson rose
No trees bared a beautiful rose as red as blood of the sun
As red as the blood of a girl who were shot to the heart with a gun
I laid on the grass under the tree, there will be no dance for me
Yet my small nightingale, just won’t let it be
She pierced her breast against the thorns of the dead rose bush
The moon cried and the oak tree screamed, yet she continued to push
The rose bush regained it’s life and gave birth to a red flower
My nightingale ended her life, just to make me happier
I took the rose to that beautiful girl, asking her to dance
Here is the flower of our promise, yet there was no romance
Another man gave her a gem and everything around me froze.
“A gem is much more precious than a silly little rose.”
Out of anger I threw the rose out onto the road
Busy streets of our town where many carriages rode
Someone on a horse ran over my nightingale's red flower
The last thing she saw at her final hour
I once did believe in love, this magic I disposed of
I only know the word of books and nothing else matters
You see, my little nightingale who is no longer here,
Knowledge is true power, nothing else should be endeared
Love is useless
Love is hopeless
Love is dying
Yet why, my nightingale
Am I the one crying?
.....I'm sorry....