The Fruit Of The Wild Rose

Goodnight my love I'm so alone And so surrounded By your sweet memory I cannot sleep For all these dreams They come to play Till dawn comes stealin' them away.. The fruit of the wild rose Hangs here with summer gone Voluptuous crimson As the days become colder The fruit of the wild rose In a warmer country Where the sea meets the land You may walk with your baby In the afternoon Perhaps some aroma From a street café Might sadden your eyes Carry you away The fruit of the wild rose Sweet and so sour on the tongue Swollen and crimson As the light fades and shortens The thorny wild rose She gave me a summer but she's gone As England faces the winter In your eyes, in your mind, in your mind Clearer than a photograph No passing of time