If your name is true, an obstinate person you are, a dead tree it's called.
Would you like this flower, you're in a wishful manner it seems, to stick it in your eye.
For good their old days, two of them in a confidential manner, into their orgone box.
By his long claws, to get one woman, biting into a whole of it.
Night comes to an end never, to going to visit and ask, the name of roses. Or, in the night to be getten tired never, to going to visit and ask, the riddle of roses.