Текст: Roses Are Red. What Became Of Me. These Days.

Still waiting...
A touch of turpentine
What are you hiding, girl?
Have you made up your mind?

She's nothing in her fantasies
She sings in broken melodies
That I'm putting back together again

These days we're dreaming of
The ways we fell in love
The things we're guilty of

Still raining...
Another day inside
Why are you smiling girl?
Have you made up your mind?
If you want to, If you need to, it could be true tonight.