She's a flower full of scent
She blooms then wilts regret
Selling roses at the gates
Every petal to their fate
She's heady with laments
Of resentment and repent
Envy green are her eyes
To the lovers so blind
As the day passes
Your face is etched in pain
You talk of her everyday
She's the name you engrave
Into the ground of your plate
The copper slowly burns
The acid eats away
You forgive her mistakes
With the prints that you make
As the day passes
She cradled and she wept
Held his picture to her chest
Fragments of the times
The times remembered best
The prisoner bides his time
When will Mary write
Some truth from her pen
That their love has died?
As the day passes
A soldier amends his words
And polishes the dirt
There's a letter on its way
Saves his mother from the hurt
Holds a vigil by her fire
Many hours she'll pray
A shrine to her boy
He'll be home one day
As the day passes
