Cannonball Days (Live In Malmo)

What's come to stay from the Cannonball days
But a house and some clothes on the line
Fired away with your drunken brigade
On the streets of New York as a child
Woman so fine, yeah, 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
'Cause you're gonna need it dear
Loved you back then, but I couldn't say when
'Cause all of your roses have died

I tasted your lips with my hands on your hips
Danced in apartment named Nine
With your 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
'Cause 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
'Cause all of your roses have died
All of your roses have died

Well you basked in the heat down on Christopher street,
Bought you a rose from a bum
I 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
Yeah 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