There'll Always Be Roses

She sits by the window she stares at the snow she scratches the ice on the pane

She rereads his last letter and pokes at the fire fights tears as she walks to the train

The old man at the station is the only one she talks to she knows he’s been through this before

He once gave her daughter an Albertine Rose and then the next week came the war

That’s how life goes she supposes in England there’ll always be roses

Coronation Day was the day they were married they made love in the railway couchette

This happiest breed, this most precious of stones in the land where the sun never set

When the sirens rang out and the children were taken through all those long months he was gone

He had a duty a life he was born to to do as his fathers had done

Man thinks he’s free but God disposes it’s stronger than even the roses

And he cried out her name through the blood and the pain

In the sands of El Alamein but no one came not a soul came

She’s back at the window the spring rains are falling the photos are down from the shelf

There are no more letters except for the one that was signed by Sir Winston himself

But carry on carry on we must carry on permit ourselves no selfish tears.

Two fatherless children among fatherless millions and now she’ll have nothing but years

To think of the life that she couldn’t save

She’ll always have roses to lay on his grave to lay on his grave

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