1, 2, 3, and...

Darling, better mend your ways and mark these words real well,
Darling, better mend your ways; beware the gates of Hell,
Let me put it all quite bluntly, let me be most direct,
Be the rose you'd love to hold and the thorn that's in your flesh.

Mister, better mend your ways; the time is growing near,
The analysts keep talking while their hearts fail for fear,
It's taking inventory of the things that you respect,
Find the rose you'd love to hold and the thorn that's in your flesh.

Children's cries are never heard by the needle or the knife,
I swear I heard their voices on the other side of life,
Shall we expose this wisdom to the elements for a test'
Show the rose you'd love to hold or the thorn that's in your flesh.

Find the rose you'd love to hold, the thorn that's in your flesh.

Prisons and jailhouses of this worthless currency,
Brick for brick, dismantled by a truth that sets one free,
Thrust your hands inside the wounds - they're for you to inspect,
Find the rose you'd love to hold or the thorn that's in your flesh,
Find the rose you'd love to hold or the thorn that's in your flesh,
Find the rose you'd love to hold or the thorn that's in your flesh,
Find the rose you'd love to hold or the thorn that's in your flesh.