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• Artiste: Ryan Adams
• Titre: Cannonball Days
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What's come to stay from your cannonball days But a house and some clothes on the line? You fired away with your drunken brigade In the streets of New York as a child A woman so fine, yeah, fine as a girl Slow like an Italian wine Her hair all a mess and her dress all disheveled But all of your roses have died Better luck in the next life 'Cause your gonna need it, dear Loved you back then but I couldn't say when All of your roses have died All of your roses have died I tasted your lips, put my hands on your hips Danced in apartment A-9 Your cats on the sill and my head to your breast Feeding your rhythms divine A west Jersey queen with a rattle machine Tasted the salt through your skin Loved you back then but I couldn't say when All of your roses have died Better luck in the next life Go give them some hell and goodbye Loved you back then but I couldn't say when All of your roses have died All of your roses have died A bask in the heat down on Christopher Street Bought you a rose from a bum Left you a note that I stuffed in your coat You laughed and you said it was dumb You broke like a stem and I guess you're with him I'm sure that he treats you just fine So bottoms up, cheers, baby, here's to your tears All of your roses have died Better luck in the next life I'll miss you but go on, goodbye I feel like a straight from his cannonball days When all of your roses were mine When all of your roses were mine