Cold Roses

Mirrors in the room go black and blue

On a Sunday morning in

Saturday shoes

We don't choose who we love

We don't choose

Lots of wild memory melt on the street

In a Sunday shoes, with the

Saturday feet

And she don't love who she chose

And she don't need what she do

Daylight comes in exposin'

Saturday bruises and cold roses

Cold roses

Nothin' but the sunlight'll 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 in exposin'

Saturday bruises and cold roses

Cold roses, cold roses

Cold roses, cold roses, cold roses