she's a painting outta 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
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 she's a master piece deserving restoration or condemnation time will tell us if she's a lifer or a decomposuer she is rose no one really knows
