Painting Roses

Petals blowing in the wind
Trouble's coming round again
Sweet as springtime floating on the morning breeze
Trouble's bringing her back down to her knees
Flowers need water to bloom
Trouble's raining his perfume
Trouble's speckling her like the morning dew
Painting her roses black and blue
She clings to air instead of soil
Trouble's stroking her with his oils
Painting a canvas full of butterflies and scars
Painting her roses blown apart

Soon there'll be no beauty to show
No innocence or tender glow
It won't take long before her pretty petals fall
And the pain is all, the pain is all she'll know

Flower petals strewn and torn
There's nothing left but stems and thorns
That's why she's all strung out and prickly to the touch
Trouble's been painting her roses too much
This cycle surely needs to break
There's only so much grief the gardening can take
But how's she supposed to grow her seed another way
When all she knows is painting roses
Lord, how's she supposed to grow her seed another way
When all she knows is painting roses