A Good Year for the Roses Counting Crows

I can hardly stand the sight of lipstick
On the cigarettes there in the ashtray
Lying cold the way you left them
But at least your lips caressed them while you packed

Or the lip print on a half-filled cup of coffee
That you poured and didn't drink
But at least you thought you wanted it
And that's so much more than I can say for me

It's been a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could stand another mowing
Funny, I don't even care

But as you turned and walked away
And as the door behind you closes
The only thing I thought to say
Is what a good year for the roses

After three, four years of marriage
It's the first time that you haven't made the bed
I guess the reason we're not talking
There's so little left to say that we haven't said

Oh, while a million thoughts go racing through my mind
I guess I haven't said a word
And from the bedroom the familiar sound
Of our one baby's crying goes unheard