(Janice Torre and Fred Spielma)
|
I realize the way your eyes deceived me
|
With tender looks that I mistook for love
|
|
So take away the flowers that you gave me
|
And send the kind that you remind me of
|
|
Paper roses, paper roses
|
Oh, how real those roses seemed to be
|
But they're only imitation
|
Like your imitation love for me
|
|
I thought that you would be a perfect lover
|
You seemed so full of sweetness at the start
|
|
But like a big red rose
|
That's made of paper
|
There isn't any sweetness
|
In your heart
|
|
Paper roses, paper roses
|
Oh, how real those roses seem to be
|
But they're only imitation
|
Like your imitation love for me
|
Like your imitation love for me
|
|
-----------------
|
Paper Roses
|
| Anita Bryant |
