Each time she'd find something beautiful, She ruined all of it's beauty She walked down a gorgeous path, The flowers seemed so soothing. She saw a blood red rose, And approached to slowly pick, But as she reached, the stem attacked, The thorn gave her a pricck. She grabbed the flower, nonetheless, And held it to her close. It wilted and crumbled to black, Staining her heart and her clothes She wiped the black off of her blouse And resumed walking slow, She could ruin everything beautiful, But she'd rather walk alone.