Papa’s Roses Pat Benatar
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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 a holiday
When he was gentle and kind
He gave those flowers his heart and soul
I wish he'd saved some for me
It would have been such a simple thing
For me to be
Like papa's roses, soft and pale
Like petals thrown in the dirt
Only silence is spoken here
All that grows here is hurt
Ooh ooh ooh....
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 a holiday
When he was gentle and kind
He gave those flowers his heart and soul
I wish he'd saved some for me
It would have been such a simple thing
For me to be
Like papa's roses, soft and pale
Like petals thrown in the dirt
Only silence is spoken here
All that grows here is hurt
Ooh ooh ooh....
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