Rose, can I come down for a drink?
|
It's happened again
|
I've got a story I'm sure will end poorly
|
I'll begin at the end
|
|
Rose, you must know
|
I couldn't find the words
|
That it takes to say "stay"
|
Now she's gone away
|
|
Rose, can I come down to your garden?
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I can only wilt flowers
|
Bring me your shovel
|
There's a heart to be buried
|
And a body as well
|
|
Your letters are tied with a strand of your hair
|
In a breast pocket safe, they keep talking
|
|
Now I wake up alone
|
With my eyes to the floor
|
And I see you at my night
|
Well and weeping once more
|
|
Rose, can I come down to your rose bed?
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To lay in your thorns
|
Know I meant it, so must be buried
|
I will not be mourned
|
|
Rose, you must know
|
I felt more than I said
|
Now I've got all the words
|
And no one
|
|
Now the hole has been dug
|
And I'm down on my knees
|
Rain make us mud
|
Spring with bloomer's one
|
|
-----------------
|
I've Got All The Words...
|
| Jets To Brazil |
