Oh I’ve loved you from afar, I’ve borne you like a scar, Sung your name across the bloody Colfiorito, But a poison took your heart, you charmless little tart, Now you’ve nary a jot o’ bother at all for me-o, This old town has gone to bits, all the folk are off their tits, Screamin’, “Hoo-rah! Hurry the fuck t’blazes!” A right parade o’ fools come to stomp all o’er yer jewels, Like a fistful o’ half dead roses.
And we’re here again, ho again, let the whisky flow again, Let the taps blow again, sound away the knell, Like a fistful o’ roses, we’ll take ‘em to the grave, Every last tale there is to tell.
Oh, this boozer is a wreck, all up & down the deck, Like a tired old sinner off her game, Wi’ her blood red lips, and her youth about her hips, Still the regulars all love her just the same, Where the mud-spat boots cut their way among the suits, And the Sally’s come to rattle the can for Jesus, ‘Til they chain up all the doors & toss out all the whores, Wi’ a fistful o’ half dead roses.
May all the Autumn leaves turn to Twenties at yer feet, And the high & mighty come to know your thunder, We could set the world ablaze, but these are early days, And there’s still a hell of a road for us tae wander, And there’s one here among us’ll outlive the rest, Take a tipple to his foibles & his praises, ‘Til they strike him off the roll & chuck him doon a hole, Wi’ a fistful o’ half dead roses.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
