Cool smooth Jazz Music flows from that Bar they call the Rose.
Saxophones and a Grand Piano join together in harmony, if it only could be.

Kids laughter cascades the air with not one single care
In the playground there are no such things as school way halls
Even though they are playing war, at least that’s how it is all before man came in with his threatening machines.

So, while he sat there on his thrown, people were dead and choking; but at least his machines are broken

And that Fat King fell down, down into the smell of blood and grim, but we all didn’t act at the right time and now there is a war.

And all before you could walk down a cool city street, feel no hustle just a beat, from that cool smooth Jazz Bar called the Rose.

And Flowers spring all around and are not dead on the ground from that hideous thing called a machine. That is why we have to stay pure without a lie; open mind with some loving and some kind. So, keep it so the thrive will die and we are all alive.