He sits still legs crossed at the kitchen table only lost in his gin and tonic and the smell of afternoon cigarettes
She's mastering the way she dances in between sideway glances
Words that would come in vivid colors if she let them slip off her lips
Generations handed down, blame the pain on times they live in
A modern version of his father now wasting all the chances life will give him
But in her way she's done one better, coats are made for winter weather
Neighbor kids play in the street, the sun sinks down below the back yard trees
There's a cross on the side of the road reflecting itself in a car window
Where does love really go, maybe no one knows, no one knows
But somewhere stuck inside it's too proud to die, the rose of Jericho
Falling into old routines that history deems worth repeating
Prayers that seem to say themselves, self help books on dusty shelves
If everything is temporary why should they care how it shines
The simple truth in looks deceiving are the blessing in disguise
There's a picture they took long ago in a white dress; black tuxedo
Where does love really go, maybe no one knows no one knows
But somewhere stuck inside it's too proud to die the rose of Jericho
The Rose of Jericho sits on a shelf waiting to be watered by somebody else
But, it can't love you without a little help 'cause it don't know how to love itself
Moonlight reaches bedroom windows high above the town below
You can't always count on rain to water what you need to grow