I can hardly bear the sight of lipstick on
the cigarettes
There in the ashtray
Lyin’ cold the way you left ‘em
But
at least your lips caressed them while you packed
Or the lip-print on a half-filled
cup of coffee
That you poured and didn’t drink
But at least you thought
you wanted it
That’s so much more than I can say for me
What
a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there
The lawn could
stand another mowin’
Funny I don’t even care
As you turn to
walk away
As the door behind you closes
The only thing I have to say
It’s
a good year for the roses
After three full years of
marriage
It’s the first time that you haven’t made the bed
I
guess the reason we’re not talkin’
There’s so little left
to say we haven’t said
While a million thoughts go racin’ through
my mind
I find I haven’t said a word
From the bedroom the familiar
sound
Of a baby’s cryin’ goes unheard