Dead

Sun blushed roses
are next to the bed.
I've drunk too much coffee,
it's gone to my head.

Walk me down the side street
and hold my hand.
It looks like I'm leading
but we both know I can't.

For a week and a night
I've been out of my mind
But please don't get me wrong
Oh

Thirteen red roses
that will soon be dead.
Should I box them up for you darling,
perhaps make a hat for your head.

Walk me down ground street
with a glass in your hand.
Talking about behaviour
but I don't understand

What you want from my hands
anymore like before.
But please don't get me wrong,
Oh whatever that means.

And you won't ever see past yourself or past me.
And the lines each one's drawn thirty-four, fifty-one.
But please don't get me wrong,
Oh whatever that means.