歌词
[Verse 1]
Walking through the gardens, where the roses bloom,
They seem to thrive in sunlight, while shadows fill my room.
Their petals soft and fragrant, untouched by any rain,
While I toil in the darkness, feeling all the pain.
[Pre-Chorus]
They dance in golden circles, beneath the silver moon,
I chase the fleeting moments, knowing they’ll be gone too soon.
They sip the sweetest nectar, while I taste only the drought,
Their world is full of plenty, while mine is full of doubt.
[Chorus]
The roses bloom brighter, while the weeds grow strong,
In a world that’s so divided, where do we belong?
They bask in the sunshine, we struggle in the shade,
In this garden of contrast, it’s a cruel masquerade.
[Instrumental Break] [Melancholy Violin]
[Verse 2]
In the land of the lords, where the towers touch the sky,
They build their dreams on riches, while we’re left to wonder why.
Their halls are filled with laughter, echoing through the night,
While we whisper in the silence, searching for the light.
[Pre-Chorus]
They feast upon the harvest, gathered from the fields,
We scrape together remnants, hoping wounds will heal.
Their table set with plenty, our plates are often bare,
In this banquet of existence, there’s so little left to share.
[Chorus]
The roses bloom brighter, while the weeds grow strong,
In a world that’s so divided, where do we belong?
They bask in the sunshine, we struggle in the shade,
In this garden of contrast, it’s a cruel masquerade.
[Bridge] [Soft Piano]
In the dance of the seasons, the cycles come and go,
The rich keep getting richer, the poor remain below.
It’s the irony of living, in this tale so old,
Where the stories of the humble, remain forever untold.
[Chorus] [Crescendo]
The roses bloom brighter, while the weeds grow strong,
In a world that’s so divided, where do we belong?
They bask in the sunshine, we struggle in the shade,
In this garden of contrast, it’s a cruel masquerade.
[Outro] [Reflective Guitar]
So we sing of the roses, and the weeds that strive,
In a world of contradiction, where only few can thrive.
Maybe one day, the balance will be found,
And in the soil of justice, new flowers will abound.
[outro]
