Papa's Roses

Pat Benatar

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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