My love was like a rosebud,
Kissed by morning dew,
Its fragrance is so fresh,
Like the love I gave to you.

And like the tiny rosebud,
so delicate and small,
With just a little love and care,
The petals will hot fall.

But pluck it from its stem,
You could almost hear it cry,
It's as if that tiny rosebud,
Knows that it will die.

My love was once that easy,
To crush, to wither and kill,
But you put a fence around me,
And here I'm growing still.

But some of my tiny petals,
Are a little worse for wear,
My stem leans over slightly,
And thorns are growing there.

I no longer sway so freely,
In the gentle summer breeze,
All my petals now are open,
And there are holes now in my leaves.

But unlike that tiny rosebud,
I had someone to care,
Although I'm worn and tattered,
I know he's always there.