One threatens your life,
The other threatening your pose.
Before I decide you need a little extra, a little more,
I’ll offer you a scent that’ll shake you to your core.
Beautiful blooms drawing you in,
Seducing your Reason to the consistency of mud,
I might plant it right into you,
Until the new blooms start to bud.
If that isn’t enough,
Or if I didn’t even try,
It’ll be one slice, two slice, three slice, four,
All said and done you might end up on the floor.
The sanctuary isn’t safe,
‘Cause I might sprinkle it with blood,
And I might stand there laughing
As you fall with a thud.
In one hand a Knife,
In the other a Rose.