3d
They call me Mr. Rose,
Bearer of lost love,
Mourner of memories.
There used to be a Mrs. Rose,
But she faded to nothing but a stray few,
Memories for me to weep over.
They call me Mr. Rose,
Because of this flower I pin on my suit,
More for the stab of the thorn than anything.
Bearer of lost love,
Mourner of memories.
There used to be a Mrs. Rose,
But she faded to nothing but a stray few,
Memories for me to weep over.
They call me Mr. Rose,
Because of this flower I pin on my suit,
More for the stab of the thorn than anything.
The kind of man you'll find in the corner of a sailing club while everyone else enjoys the party.
