The English Roses

Just before it rains And the wind whips 'round the balcony And the sky closes On the English roses And she'll be pacin' 'Round and 'round and 'round and 'round her room These storms always find her To remind her To the endless sky The pink over grey She looks for an answer But it's too late Maybe it's true Some things were just never meant to be Maybe not This is a story Fruit cut from the vine Forgot and left to rot Long before its time This is a story About the girl who lived next door Looking for someone to hold A wish made on a star Brought her here tonight In the courtyard, she waits A thousand broken dates But she holds the hymnal Where so carefully pressed Is the English rose She laid to rest It's only a story Flowers in full bloom Bouquets in every room This is a story Fruit cut from the vine Looking for someone to hold