Rosie was a lonely girl She said she was born that way She always was that way She left home at just six weeks Got a new home like you're supposed to do What else is there to do She fell in love and settled down Up on Fourth Street, on the edge of town
She'd feel alone in a crowded room Sing when she heard a happy tune
It would be nice to go and play Till they took her balls away Just took her life away And doing nothing isn't fun When you've nowhere to play and run Nowhere left to run She'd visit the dog park every day Every time be turned away
Just twenty steps around her new room Staying in bed long passed noon Puppies grow old so soon Past the dogs that gather there Pain masked by there narcotic stares But no one really cares Her dreams were cut up and bled dry A million voices in her cry
Rosie waits, her world is her window And Rosie hates just what she doesn't know And Rosie hates the world below And Rosie loves She Loves to much to know.
When my housemates go to work every day, they leave the radio playing to keep me company. This is my new blog of my favorite songs. And who said we needed thumbs?