a place where the wild roses grow

i want to go to the place where the wild roses grow old
to where they can wither and die and become the soil
sweet as the sentiment is
the last one to stand is the loneliest
we got there don’t worry what we did will outlive us all and I’m proud of it

live the dream
kick and scream
make them remember us

drink and fight
every night
time will not wait for us

somehow deep in the pit of my stomach a fire still burns and my wheels still turn
but how we survived from the scene where we thrived doing things that we thought were fun?
i look back and smile when I think of the tyre blow out in Northallerton
when we were pulled over on to the hard shoulder by a man with a badge and a gun

live the dream
kick and scream
make them remember us

drink and fight
every night
time will not wait for us

drank on Brighton pier til the sun reappeared drove all day back to Nazareth road
never made it to bed when you shaved off your head in a campsite by the Cornish coast
ran naked through fields in the rain drunk again in the Lake District after the show
successful or not least we gave it a shot and that’s more than I can say for most

live the dream
kick and scream
make them remember us

drink and fight
every night
time will not wait for us

we lived the dream
kicked and screamed
made them remember us

drank and fought
round the clock
time did not wait for us

I want to go to the place where the wild roses grow old

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