(i don't own him)

A Rose Wrapped in Ribbon

Her face as soft as a rose,
Blushing red petals bloom
On her happy cheeks, singing
To the crowded theatre room.

My black gloves wrapping,
Like a ribbon on to her sleeve,
As I gently pull her closer
And motion for us to leave.

All my life I've searched
For what I can call beauty.
All my life I've only seen
The ugliness and bitter greed.

When Christine sings, my mirrors
Stop to reflect. In her I can see
If there is any joy in this world
She is the reason I will believe.

My mask let's me hide
The world in a masquerade.
I had created my own music
To drown out their parade.

In my catacombs I never
Thought I would find
A little piece of heaven,
A little peace of mind.

But I found her, Christine.
And I found if I gave
My heart to her, she'd
Still react the same.

Just like everyone else.
I haven't got faith or hope.
When everyone leaves
I only have one last note.

One last melody on the stage
And I'll bow out of sight.
I'll leave her only a rose
Rotting in the morning light.