Days of Wine and Roses
It was ’75 on the banks of the Clyde
I was 19 and worked the plate steel floor
Almost lost my way to find a weekly wage
working the cutting crew from 8 till 4
I took day shift tag grabbed my duffel bag
Took every double shift that came my way
At his hut I prayed to the foreman, “Charlie
can I share some sick man’s wage”
Living for the day
I was living for the day
Living for the day
Praying for the Days of Wine and Roses
I met a younger girl from a different world
She took my hand led me out of my way
Laid me down that night
Got my first love bite
I’d be her man for the rest of my days
Living for the day
We were living for the day
Living for the day
Praying for the Days of Wine and Roses
For the border we rode on the ’74
With our lives in the back of a van
That old transit was cold as we ran for our souls
Left our hearts in the heart of that land
Living for the day
We were living for the day
Living for the day
Praying for the Days of Wine and Roses
As I look back now from this closing bow
Don’t see a thing from it all that I would change
Nothing that I would leave on that cutting room floor
For turning back nor for turning away
Living for the day
We were living for the day
Living for the day
Praying for the Days of Wine and Roses
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