Текст и слова песни Alecia Nugent – A Dozen White Roses
I heard his time was short so I went to see my old friend
When I walked through the door
He said, sure good to see you again
Sit down here by me, the Doc says, my future ain't bright
But even if I don't beat it, there's a part of my past that won't die
He points to a picture and smiles from his easy chair
As he relives the moment, says, girl, that was heaven right there
You can see his heart's broken as a lonesome tear drop to the floor
And along with the silence that filled, came a knock at the door
A bouquet wrapped up in ribbons and bows
Too little, too late, I suppose
But he clings to the last ray of hope
And a dozen white roses
They were meant for each other, that was clear right from the start
What a shame too much pride and a jealous heart kept them apart
No card and some flowers it's quite enough to make amends
For fifty years living a life of what should have been
A bouquet wrapped up in ribbons and bows
Too little, too late, I suppose
But he clings to the last ray of hope
And a dozen white roses
A bouquet wrapped up in ribbons and bows
Too little, too late, I suppose
But he clings to the last ray of hope
And a dozen white roses
When I walked through the door
He said, sure good to see you again
Sit down here by me, the Doc says, my future ain't bright
But even if I don't beat it, there's a part of my past that won't die
He points to a picture and smiles from his easy chair
As he relives the moment, says, girl, that was heaven right there
You can see his heart's broken as a lonesome tear drop to the floor
And along with the silence that filled, came a knock at the door
A bouquet wrapped up in ribbons and bows
Too little, too late, I suppose
But he clings to the last ray of hope
And a dozen white roses
They were meant for each other, that was clear right from the start
What a shame too much pride and a jealous heart kept them apart
No card and some flowers it's quite enough to make amends
For fifty years living a life of what should have been
A bouquet wrapped up in ribbons and bows
Too little, too late, I suppose
But he clings to the last ray of hope
And a dozen white roses
A bouquet wrapped up in ribbons and bows
Too little, too late, I suppose
But he clings to the last ray of hope
And a dozen white roses
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