on your withers The wind in your mane Could never prepare you For what lied ahead The run for the roses so red And it's run for the roses As fast as
Översättning: Rosey. Blind Sordomuda.
rien dire J?aime bien rouler dans sa decapotee Mais quand la pluie tombe sans prevenir La ronce de noyer perd son eclat dore Ah la vie a l?eau de rose
