Everyone else looks askance
At my travel-worn clothes
Yet you call me "prince," not "pauper."
Are you just paying your dues
With kind words and kind hands?
Am I feverish,
Or do you seem sincere?
My rose red, my beauty with thorns,
Can you see through my mask
And to the heart that it hides?
I am a dreamer,
And you are the dream.
You are the star
That I want to reach.
I will seek my fortune
With my voice and guitar.
Once gilded, I will return.
My rose red, my beauty with thorns,
Can you see through my mask
And to the heart that it hides?
My rose red, please speak aloud!
Silence never befits you.
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