Just before it rains

The wind whips 'round the balcony

And the sky closes on the english roses

And she'll be pacin'

'round and 'round and 'round and 'round her room

These storms always find here to remind her



To the endless sky

The pink over grey

She looks for an answer

But it's too late

Maybe it's true

Some things were just never meant to be

Maybe not



This is a story

Fruit cut from the vine

Forgot and left to rot

Long before its time

This is a story

About the girl who lived next door

Looking for someone to hold



A wish made on a star

Brought her here tonight

At a courtyard she waits

A thousand broken dates

But she holds the hymnal

Where so carefully pressed

Is the english rose she laid to rest



It's only a story

Flowers in full bloom

Bouquets in every room

Ooh, this is a story

Fruit cut from the vine

Looking for someone to hold