A rose lies across the grand piano,
So delicate and pretty to no definite end...

She sits down on the bench, the wood cool on her...
Her hands brushing along the keys, just dying to...

I've been looking in the mirror for some time now,
Confusion and worry written deep on her face...

When you skies are a bit grey,
And your heart a little down...

She sits on the park bench, the clouds hanging low...
She can't believe how this happened, how everyone...

I feel the familiar tug of my heart,
From the memories that push it faster...

Moving under the cover of the rain,
It slaps the bare skin of her shoulder...

Every day she puts on a smile for everyone to see,
Every day she fakes a laugh for everyone to hear...

A red rose blooming to its full,
Standing there in all its glory...

She dreamt upon fairy tales,
And wished upon shooting stars...

Her heart was ripped in two,
Thrown and trampled on the ground...

We will dance to the perfect rhythm,
The tune so magical and high...