Текст песни Sick Rose (Live) - Alina Orlova

O Rose thou art sick the invisible worm,
That flies in the night in the howling storm Has found out thy bed of crimson joy
And his dark secret love does thy life destroy.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to endless night. Some are born to endless night,
Some are born to sweet delight.