歌词
Verse 1) In the garden of wonder, where time bends and swirls, I chase elusive thoughts, like a curious girl, The Queen’s roses gleam, pristine and pure, But I yearn for rebellion, for colors obscure.
White roses stand tall, their petals like snow, Yet my heart craves defiance, a secret to sow, So I tiptoe through hedges, my brush in hand, Whispering secrets to petals, like grains of sand.
(Chorus) Painting roses red, oh, what a delight, In this whimsical maze, where day turns to night, Splashing crimson dreams on each porcelain bloom, Defying the rules, weaving tales of my own.
(Verse 2) The Cheshire Cat grins, his eyes full of jest, “Off with their heads!” the Queen’s decree pressed, But I dip my brush deeper, courage unfurled, For Wonderland’s magic lies in a rebel’s swirl.
Red roses emerge, defiance in bloom, Their scarlet defiance dispelling the gloom, I dance with the Mad Hatter, twirl in delight, As Wonderland whispers, “Paint your own light.”
(Chorus) Painting roses red, oh, what a delight, In this whimsical maze, where day turns to night, Splashing crimson dreams on each porcelain bloom, Defying the rules, weaving tales of my own.
(Bridge) The White Rabbit scurries, time’s fleeting embrace, But I linger, brush strokes tracing grace, For Wonderland’s canvas is vast and unbound, Where imagination blooms, colors unchained.
(Verse 3) The Queen approaches, her gaze sharp and keen, “Who dares defy order?” she snarls, so mean, But my roses sing stories, rebellion ablaze, A kaleidoscope of wonder, a riotous haze.
Painted red roses, a secret I keep, In Wonderland’s heart, where dreams run deep, For sometimes the rules are meant to be shed, And I’ll keep painting roses, white turned to red.
(Chorus) Painting roses red, oh, what a delight, In this whimsical maze, where day turns to night, Splashing crimson dreams on each porcelain bloom, Defying the rules, weaving tales of my own.
(Outro) So let the Queen fume, her wrath like a storm, I’ll dance with the caterpillar, my spirit transformed, In Wonderland’s garden, where freedom is bred, I’ll keep painting my roses, white turned to red.
