The scent of roses I suppose is summers way of telling me what I'll be missing Now somebody else does your kissing And like the willow tree so woe is me
The joys of springtime are the thing I'm dreading most Reminding me what I'll be losing Since you took to picking and choosing I need you can't you see How woe is me
Woe woe is me every morning So woe is me every night You left without any warning And that's not right
The winter weather Which together we ignore, is worse, Now there's no central heating Since me and my heart took a beating
And somebody else chairs the meeting Of the board I want you to know That the hours go slow And that woe is meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
