Текст: Grateful Dead. Skeletons In The Closet: The Best Of The Grateful Dead. Rosemary.

Boots were made of leather, a breath of cologne
The mirror was a window, she sat by alone

All around her the garden grew
Scarlet and purple and crimson and blue

She came dead, she went and at last went away
The garden was sealed, when the flowers decayed

On the wall of the garden a legend did say
No one may come here, since no one may stay