Cream Rose

Things ain't what they used to be. (In fact, they never was.) The Profile (more than you really wanted to know) is here.

I love the way The tattered clouds Go wind across the sky As summer goes And leave me With a tear in my eye I'm taking out my winter clothes My garden knows what's wrong The petals of my favorite rose Be in the shadows dark and long Through every year It's very clear I should be used To carrying on But I can't be found In the garden Singing this song When the last Rose of summer is gone ---Tom Waits

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