A blue rose on your skin,
you remind me of London, a snob and blonde girl a little crazy.
They say about you... it seems that you want to*
that you quickly get excited and then all that comes with it but you never become attached to anyone.
But if you belonged to me, I would tie
your heart with a string that hurts you, if you go away.
I would like to write on your skin
that I like you because you're the way you're.
With that tattoo of the blue rose
which is your courage and your extra resource.
End I speak with you about me and her, who cares,
yes, probably it had to happen that.
And I don't even realize that it** means "I love you"
and that the blue rose on your breast is opening righ now.
A blue rose which no longer go away,
your sweet and sinful imagination and even different.
There's no other blue rose,
but the unusual thing is that tonight I'm asking you for it.
I would like to write on my skin,
having sex in the car, no that's no magic.
A tattoo because you go where you go,
to the beach or wherever you want as long as you can run away.
End I speak with you about me and her, who cares,
yes, probably it had to happen that.
And I don't even realize that I've told you "I love you"
while the blue rose on your breast is opening righ now.
If you belonged to me, I would tie you
but a string around the heart and you're not here.
At the beach or wherever you were, your blue rose is pricking me.
Your imagination is sweet and a bit sinful.
But a blue rose on my skin
I realize it now, step by step,
that it*** never go away.