Among all the roses, I pick the black one,
Through my depression, I pick tears,
In my heart you'll see I've loved a ton,
This only helped me to overcome my fears.
Many times people will stab me in the back,
For whatever reason's I do not know.
Heartache has made me pick up and pack,
to go to the place where depression will flow.
Maybe life is worth all the tears we cry,
Maybe life isn't as bad as it seems,
After our tears a part of us dies,
Planting our hearts with new hopes and dreams.
Maybe heartache will make us strong,
When the opportunity to love again comes along.
