Year of the Rose

These were the days in the Year of the Rose we were fools, just as history shows wrapped up in sheets of cloud it was a game far above the ground Dirty stories (we) told at night I like my coffee both black and white a ship on a sea of memory salt corrodes (and) makes rust of me Put a flower in my wound and a garden will bloom but the roses will soon wither in the autumn moon So let's try (I need to) Two snowflakes descended from the sky played with pillows in the candle light hands gripping hair while we ride through the air kisses fly and the girls go wild. Put a flower in my wound and a garden will bloom but the roses will soon wither in the autumn moon Put a flower in my wound and a garden will bloom So let's try --- Year of the Rose - Hjaltalín