Cannonball Days (Live)

What's come to stay from your cannonball days
A house and some clothes on the line
Fired away with your drunken brigade
On the streets of New York as a child
Woman so fine, yeah, fine as a girl
Slow like an Italian wine
Her hair all a mess and a dress off the shelf
All of your roses have died

Better luck in the next life
'Cause you're gonna need it, dear
I loved you back then but I couldn't say when, dear
All of your roses have died

I tasted your lips, put my hand on your hips
Danced in apartment 89
With your cats on the sill and my head to your breast
Feeding your rhythms design
West Jersey Queen with a rattled machine
Tasted the salt through your skin
Loved you back then but I couldn't say when, yeah
All of your roses have died

Better luck in the next life
Go give'em some hell and goodbye
I loved you back then but I couldn't say when, yeah
All of your roses have died
All of your roses have died

Well, you basked in the heat down on Christopher street
And I bought you a rose from a bum
I left you a note that I stuffed in your coat
You laughed and you said it was dumb
Broke like a stem and I guess you're with him
I'm sure that he treats you just fine
So bottom up, cheers baby, here's to your fears
All of your roses have died

Better luck in the next life
I'll miss you, but go on, goodbye
I felt like a stray from your cannonball days
When all of your roses were mine
Yeah, I felt like a stray, that cannonball days
When all of your roses were mine
And all of your roses were mine
And all of your roses were mine