The rose petals on her grave
Are an offering of peace,
When life is a slave
Nothing matters, it seems

She was the shade
Of a bronze-sunny day
Love, faith, innocence

Smiles on the cover
No one aware of what hides under
beauty was her one defense

The petals on her grave
Are an offering of peace
When life is a slave
Nothing matters, it seems

She was as pure
as winter’s snow, didn’t know
how her gift should have been used

Nights all alone,
And she thinks
Where has the meaning gone?

The petals on her grave,

Are an offering of peace

When life is a slave,

Nothing matters, it seems

And nobody saw it coming at all,
Not a clue, they would say “no issues at all”
With the razor, she bleeds “I’m not
to be here” and the sleeve is her shield