This tale about a fellow
Is a story from the heart
Of how a love for joy in life
Can brake and fall apart
Of a rose in bloom in the midst of June
No longer to stand tall
And the eye of old St. Peter
Watching over one and all
One morning in the sunrise
A rose sprung out in bloom
Her head reached up to the summer breeze
And the warming sun of June
But this rose so fair was a different kind
To weak to ride the storm
That came with dark clouds and the night
Over the fields were she was born
For I'm going, I am running away
From the children of tomorrow
Of the likes of yesterday
I'm running to the edge of the world
Where the stories of tomorrow
Are left to be untold
As the dark clouds sailed in over the fields
And the heavy rain grew strong
The lovely rose was left to fight
With the fierce winds on her own
No one saw this child, nor heard her cries
Through the thunder of the night
And when daylight came with the sun again
No blooming rose was in sight
For I'm going, I am running away
From the children of tomorrow
Of the likes of yesterday
I'm running to the edge of the world
Where the stories of tomorrow
Are left to be untold
I'll ask the wise St. Peter
As I stand upon his steps
When my rose has faded grey and old
And my life is at the edge
Why do you take the children
They are not the ones to die
You should rather take the faded ones
The likes of you and I
For I'm going, I am running away
From the children of tomorrow
Of the likes of yesterday
I'm running to the edge of the world
Where the stories of tomorrow
Are left to be untold