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