The English Roses

The Pretenders

Just before it rains 
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 here 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 
At a 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 
Ooh, this is a story 
Fruit cut from the vine 
Looking for someone to hold