Cannonball Days (Live)

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

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 fears
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



Credits
Writer(s): Ryan Adams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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