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Benatar Pat Innamorata Papa's Roses I picked a rose this morning And it was so fresh, it looked like it was crying I thought how sad to be so beautiful Only to wither and die Like Papa's Roses soft and pale Like petals thrown in the dirt Only silence is spoken here All that grows here is hurt And Papa's Roses Papa wasn't really a hardened man He could be tender at times I remember, it was like it holiday When he was gentle and kind He gave those roses his heart and soul I wish he'd saved some for me It would've been such a simple thing, For me to be, like Papa's Roses Like Papa's Roses soft and pale Like petals thrown in the dirt Only silence is spoken here All that grows here is hurt And Papa's Roses Voices that whisper soft and low Forever buried inside Haunted by images dark and cold Forever burned in your mind But I dreamed I could fly away Like an angel I'd fly To the places where I could forget Forget that I was like Papa's Roses Like Papa's Roses soft and pale Like petals thrown in the dirt Only silence is spoken here All that grows here is hurt And Papa's Roses |
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