Cannonball Days

What's come to stay from the Cannonball days

but a house and some clothes on the line.

Fired away your drunken brigade

In the streets of New York as a child.

Woman so fine, fine as a girl

Slow like an Italian wine.

Her hair all a mess and a dress off the shelf

But all of your roses have died.



Better luck in the next life

Cuz you're gonna need it dear.

Loved you back then, but i couldn't say when

Cuz all of your roses have died

All of your roses have died.



I tasted your lips with my hands on your hips

Danced in apartment named Nine.

Cats on the sill and my head to your breast

Beating your rhythms divine.

West Jersey Queen with a rattled machine

Tasted the salt through your skin.

Loved you back then, but I couldn't say when

Cuz all of your roses have died.



Better luck in the next life

Go give em some hell and goodbye

Loved you back then, but i couldn't say when

Cuz all of your roses have died

All of your roses have died.



Basked in the heat down on Christopher street,

Bought you a rose from a bum

Left you a note, had it stuffed in your coat

You laughed and said it was dumb.

Broke like a stem, and I guess you're with him

I'm sure that he treats you just fine.

So bottoms up, cheers, baby here's to your tears

all of your roses have died.



Better luck in the next life

I'll miss you, but go on, goodbye.

I feel like a stray from these cannonball days

when all of your roses were mine.

all of your roses were mine

all of your roses........were mine