Текст песни A Gift Of Roses

I count the hours: You count the days. Together, we count the minutes in this passion play. Walk dusty miles. And I ride that train On a first class ticket, just to be with you again. Picking up tired feet. Back from a far horizon. Cleaned up and brushed down. Dressed to look the part. Fresh from god's garden, I bring a gift of roses: To stand in sweet spring water and press them to your heart. Like the kipling cat, I walk alone - Never inviting trouble, never casting the stone. But this badge of honour is of tarnished tin. Lightyour guiding beacon to bring this fisher in.