See yesterdays rose its faded away
That beautiful rose wasn't put here to stay
The rose can be pink, yellow or red
The petals will drop because they are dead.
The petals will fall to the ground so slow
And be caught up in the wind as it blows
Age doesn't supress or change the odor they had
The savor was never, never bad
It was such a sweet, sweet smelling scent
Are you, like yesterday rose as your life is spent?
Will you leave behind a lasting scent.
Or should you this day humbly repent?
And be remembered long after you leave
As a sweet smelling rose who, really believed.