The old house stands deserted Crumbling and decaying Its broken windows watching As a young child wanders In amongst the roses Overgrown and falling The garden once was cared for Life is like the garden.
The roses reach to touch her They whisper as she passes Their petals form a carpet Soft and warm and scented In amongst the roses Full in bloom and fading The young child cannot hear them Life is like the young child.
The young child has been gathering Flowers for her mother Flowers for her bedside Flowers for her table In amongst the roses She is gathering wild flowers The roses bend to kiss her Life is like the roses.
The old house stands deserted Crumbling and decaying Its broken windows watching As a young child wanders In amongst the roses Full in bloom and fading The young child cannot hear them Life is like the young child.