Decom-posuer

[Verse] She's a painting out of focus With no good sense of intention She's authentic She's a model of disaster With a heart of revolution She's so innocent But guilty's her plea Everybody wants to save her from herself They really want to save themselves [Verse 2] She's got the grace of a tourist With the charm of demolition She's a poem without a meter or rhyme A random design of a flower Like a rose, no one really knows [Guitar solo] [Verse 3] She's a master -piece deserving Restoration or condemnation Time will tell us if she's a lifer or a decom-poseur She is rose, no one really knows