Just before it rains
The wind whips ´round the balcony
And the sky closes on the english roses
And she´ll be pacin´
´Round and ´round and ´round and ´round her room
These storms always find here to remind her

To the endless sky
The pink over grey
She looks for an answer
But it´s too late
Maybe it´s true
Some things were just never meant to be
Maybe not

This is a story
Fruit cut from the vine
Forgot and left to rot
Long before its time
This is a story
About the girl who lived next door
Looking for someone to hold

A wish made on a star
Brought her here tonight
At a courtyard she waits
A thousand broken dates
But she holds the hymnal
Where so carefully pressed
Is the english rose she laid to rest

It´s only a story
Flowers in full bloom
Bouquets in every room
Ooh, this is a story
Fruit cut from the vine
Looking for someone to hold