What's come to stay from the Cannonball days But a house and some clothes on the line. Fired away your drunken brigade In the streets of New York as a child. Woman so fine, fine as a girl Slow like an Italian wine. Her hair all a mess and a dress off the shelf But all of your roses have died.
Better luck in the next life 'Cause you're gonna need it dear. Loved you back then, but I couldn't say when 'Cause all of your roses have died All of your roses have died.
I tasted your lips with my hands on your hips Danced in apartment named Nine. Cats on the sill and my head to your breast Beating your rhythms divine. West Jersey Queen with a rattled machine Tasted the salt through your skin. Loved you back then, but I couldn't say when 'Cause all of your roses have died.
Better luck in the next life Go give 'em some hell and goodbye Loved you back then, but I couldn't say when 'Cause all of your roses have died All of your roses have died.
Basked in the heat down on Christopher street, Bought you a rose from a bum Left you a note, had it stuffed in your coat You laughed and said it was dumb. Broke like a stem, and I guess you're with him I'm sure that he treats you just fine. So bottoms up, cheers, baby here's to your tears All of your roses have died.
Better luck in the next life I'll miss you, but go on, goodbye. I feel like a stray from these cannonball days When all of your roses were mine. All of your roses were mine All of your roses... were mineTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
