I cook with love, I care with passion, I love unconditionally and yet I suffer.
A heart that returns to the ruins of her own destruction, I suffer in the mist of my own.
Clinging on to what should be, and could of been. I hold tight to myself and I suffer in the mist of my own destruction.
Don't bring me flowers if you've done something wrong, if you have yet to say your sorry and believe a rose will do.
Flowers are supposed to be happy a symbol of love, friendship, happiness, and gratitud.
Don't bring me flowers when there's nothing left to say, and this disappointment won't sway away.
You have not mastered the art of a worthy man.
