Cold Roses

Mirrors in the room go black and blue
On a Sunday morning in
Saturday shoes
We dont choose who we love
We dont choose
Lots of wild memory melt on the street
In a Sunday shoes, with the
Saturday feet
And she dont love who she chose
And she dont need what she do
Daylight comes in exposin
Saturday bruises and cold roses
Cold roses
Nothin but the sunlightll help you grow from underneath your bed
You cant see the window
We dont choose what we see
We dont choose
Fortunate and angry just like a child
All that money buys you, medicine but cant buy you time
We dont choose what we love
And she dont need what she got
Daylight comes in exposin
Saturday bruises and cold roses
Cold roses, cold roses
Cold roses, cold roses, cold roses