It won’t always be black roses for you
It’ll be black mould
Not the allure of dying young
The fear of getting old
You won’t lie on white marble
Just dirty cracked tiles
Don’t run from wolves in the woods
Beware old men with seedy smiles
You’ll live on estates in pebbledash houses
With no heat
You and your star crossed lover
You won’t meet
Won’t live in a gothic haunted house
Near a cemetery
Just a home with bars on the windows
With no key
The lover that you live with isn’t shy
Deals ounces to get by
You hide in the bathroom
When you want to cry
No beautiful running mascara
Against a bright moon
Just a cracked bathroom mirror
And a used spoon
There’ll be times your feel suffocated
But you’ll still breathe
You’ll make plans to get out
But you won’t leave
No joining the dead romantic
Just a never ending drone
The only thing you got in common with Poe
You’re gonna die alone
