Roses and Gypsies

My rose was a boy with a gypsy heart
His innocence had long been gone
And he lured me in until I had no choice
But to feel the sharp pricks come upon

Roses are fine to admire
But don't you dare come close
They'll prick you to the point of tears
They'll scratch you 'til it shows

So innocent they seem at first
Then attacking from underneath 
The battle when you least expect it
Their weapons unveiled from the sheaths

The rose with the gypsy heart, I say
Made a gypsy heart of me
Never again will I trust without thinking
Never again hear lust's plea


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