A shade of my enemy
Her lips of lies
And cheeks of Judas' kiss
No one can be trusted
They are just a bunch of
Wilted red roses offered to charm
A priceless Prada in a shade
of the darkest red
Carried by hand, by shoulder
Or by the back
Guarded by thief walking in
The brightest streets of the city
Really, you can't trust no one.
Red, the desire of love
Never forgets the desire for lust
A cherry-scented latex
For a cherry pop
Ripped in the middle of your core
And after 270 days
Hear the cry of the sweetest
Knit from a cherry popped
Still you can't trust someone
Who has take you for granted
And make your days in red.
