Corkscrews and Roses

The satellites of the world are barred and still
The grasses are hushed sound is nil
Misconception of the truth is twisted and dark
Gazing eyes of the mud, the lips of the bark

Gossip will fly and corkscrew her ears
The path is nailed shut, the heat deafens her fears
All the journeys through life will stop at the roses
Past gilded chairs and fakers' poses

They'll talk and talk and talk some more
Subtle attraction to the kitchen floor
Of this and that and bits in between
Silken rags ripped at the seams

It was no disaster, no front page fame
To everyone but those to blame
For the death of innocence, stained crystal cup
Is this the true meaning of 'growing up'?