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Cold roses

by Ryan Adams

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The mirrors in the room go black and blue
On a Sunday morning in her Saturday shoes
We don´t choose who we love
We don´t choose

The lights over the Midway melt on the street
In a Sunday shoes, with her Saturday feet
She don´t love who he choose
She don´t need what she use

Daylight comes and exposes
Saturday´s bruises and cold roses
Cold roses

Nothing but the sunlight will help you grow
From underneath your bed you can´t see the window
We don´t choose what we see
We don´t choose

Fortunate and angry just like a child
All that money buys you medicine but can´t buy you time
We don´t choose what we love
And she don´t need what she got

Daylight comes and exposes
Saturday´s bruises and cold roses
Cold roses

Cold roses
Cold roses
Cold roses
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