I can see you standing there at the gate

Ready to step into the garden

Silhouetted against a sky of green

Shadow falling long behind you. . .

ThereÕs a beauty in the rose

An awful beauty I cannot bear

In a single drop of claret

ThatÕs falling from the sky

All I have to give

(is paper roses)

All I have to live

(these paper roses)

My heart is singing

My hands are bleeding

Paper cuts

From these paper roses

These roses, redness of mine

IÕm crying softly into a pillow

Stained with awful beauty

From these paper roses

All I have to give

(is paper roses)

All I have to live

(these paper roses)

I can see you in the garden

But I am waiting here

I swear, youÕre in my garden

But youÕre. . . elsewhere.

IÕm in this cold dark place

Folding paper into flowers

To decorate my garden

For you

All I have to give

(is paper roses)

All I have to live

(these paper roses)

I let you in my garden

To use it as you would

You shut me in a room of stone

And tore my paper flowers. . .

Redness of mine. . .

Paper cuts. . .

But so does love. . .

October 1, 2003