Dead Without Reason Born Without Purpose

A few people dead, a few people born,
Dead without reason, born without purpose
Just like a flower I bloom and someone plucks me
It hurts but hey what the heck
I am not going to stop blooming

I like the kiss from the buzzing bee
And the sting from the humming bird
But the plucking from the hands that caress
Is something unheard-pluck plat ploom

I am a part of the bouquets now
Yes , the same bouquet you gave
Your wife, daughter , child, lover whoever
Which now you take to your grave
But that just tells you that love is a terrible disease
That kills the pretty little flower and bleeds the plant

The nectar gets bitter and the stench gets louder,
The bloody killer must be around
How do I avenge my murder? Oh I know
I will glow with colors and tempt the killer
And soften their minds, suppress their will
Until the shoot their own kind

I am the flower and this the way
I take my revenge for the death
That never paid and the birth that repaired.