| There’s a rose bush in the garden
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| Been there since I was born
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| That celebrates its age without fear
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| I touch the velvet petals
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| And smell the breath of angels
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| And pick the purple roses every year
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| Now you think you’re passed your prime my sweet woman
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| Your use-by date is faded and grey
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| But sad and sorry thoughts like that my darlin'
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| Is throwin' purple roses away
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| You’re tired of pretending that you’re younger
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| When gravity is real and here to stay
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| So you wear your clothes more easily for comfort
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| You used to be too skinny anyway
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| Now you’re looking in the mirror
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| A picture of your Mother
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| But you don’t see the woman that I see
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| Denying grace and pride the good Lord gave you
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| Is throwin' purple roses away
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| Yeah, sad and sorry thoughts like that my darlin'
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| Is throwin' purple roses away |