The Death Of Vanessa Torres

Ick, ick, ick

The rose and its tiny prick

For she is not alive anymore!

Oh heartbreaker, the skies are so vast

For the moon falls upon her presence

And the thunder rages again,

What purpose does she have in this world

When her soul is wicked once again?

Oh the prick of a rose

It's like a spell

Putting harm upon the others

For we empaths are golden

But hell hath no fury

Like a blind woman scorned

For she is blind to the devil

And I am a mess!

Oh the death of Vanessa Torres has come...

She will die in the thunder

She will die in the rain,

She will drown in her fury

She will be buried in her shame;

Oh desperate roses don't die for just anyone

She is a cold-hearted narcissist

With no soul

Wailing upon the flowers that are cold!

Evil, evil is the plot twist

For the plot twist is solid

And her heart reveals all things

What a raging bitch of war!

For she is a raging bitch, yeah

And her heart is as cold as stone

I want to die

In laughter and joy,

I want to laugh at the raging bitch!

For her clown face is so rare

I want to paint it upon my face,

Oh what little freaks we are

Running in the fields of jargon--

Flowers, flowers, and more flowers

I find her death to be a bore,

Give me flowers or give me death!

There is no road ahead

Oh dump me in the ridden sea

For I am so obsessed

With other clowns

And other empaths

For I am the raging sea.

Oh the death of Vanessa Torres

Eats my soul alive,

One day she will repent for her sins

For her sins are deadly

Oh the raging bitch

Is a raging itch

For some things are just not real

To whom this may be revealed

What aging flower must be concealed?