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A Fistful O' Roses

de The Rumjacks

Oh I’ve loved you from afar, I’ve borne you like a scar
Sung your name across the bloody Colfiorito
But a poison took your heart, you charmless little tart
Now you’ve nary a jot o’ bother at all for me-o
This old town has gone to bits, all the folk are off their tits
Screamin’: Hoo-rah! Hurry the fuck t’blazes!
A right parade o’ fools come to stomp all o’er yer jewels
Like a fistful o’ half dead roses

And we’re here again, ho again, let the whisky flow again
Let the taps blow again, sound away the knell
Like a fistful o’ roses, we’ll take ‘em to the grave
Every last tale there is to tell

Oh, this boozer is a wreck, all up & down the deck
Like a tired old sinner off her game
Wi’ her blood red lips, and her youth about her hips
Still the regulars all love her just the same
Where the mud-spat boots cut their way among the suits
And the Sally’s come to rattle the can for Jesus
‘Til they chain up all the doors and toss out all the whores
Wi’ a fistful o’ half dead roses

May all the Autumn leaves turn to Twenties at yer feet
And the high and mighty come to know your thunder
We could set the world ablaze, but these are early days
And there’s still a hell of a road for us tae wander
And there’s one here among us’ll outlive the rest
Take a tipple to his foibles and his praises
‘Til they strike him off the roll and chuck him doon a hole
Wi’ a fistful o’ half dead roses

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