Shes a painting outta focus with no good sense of intention shes authentic
Shes a model of disaster with a heart of revolution
Shes so innocent, but guiltys her plea
Everybody wants to save her from herself, they really want to save themselves
Shes got the grave of a tourist, with the charm of demolition
Shes a poem without a meter or rhyme a random design
Of a flower like a rose no one really knows
Shes a master piece deserving restoration or condemnation time will tell us
If shes a lifer or a decomposuer shes the rose no one really knows