Black is the rose now,
The rose of our love.
Red it once was,
Red with my blood.
My blood was shed,
And I was no more.

The rose drips anew.
I was returned,
But through your lack of care
You've shed my blood once more.
There's no esscaping it now,
The knife still drips blood as you hold it in your hand

Keep this red rose, hold it dear to your heart,
It is colored with my blood.
My last gift to you,
And by that I may be with you evermore,
Though now I live nevermore.
 
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