A Good Year For The Roses

(by George Jones)



I can hardly stand the sight of lipstick



on the cigarettes there in the ashtray.



Lying cold the way you left them,



but at least your lips caressed them



while you packed.



Or the lip print on a half-filled cup



of coffee that you poured



and didn't drink.



But at least you thought you wanted it



which is so much more than I can say for me.



REFRAIN



It's been a good year for the roses



Many blooms still linger there.



The lawn could stand another mowing



it's funny, I don't even care



But as you turned and walked away



As the door behind you closes



The only thing I thought to say



was what a good year for the roses



After three, four years of marriage



it's the first time that you haven't made the bed



I guess the reason we're not talking,



is there's so little left to say that we haven't said



While a million thoughts go racing through my mind



I guess I haven't said a word



From the bedroom, the familiar sound



of our one baby's crying goes unheard