Words and Music by Dennis Livingston For a long time, I have been content to live my life alone. In an orderly existence, the path of least resistance, has been the path I like to call my own. Then I saw her/him at the bookstore standing next to Schopenhauer. She/He liked Car Talk, I liked Bartok, as I should. We had tea, we talked till ten, sharing thoughts from art to zen. We made plans to meet as often as we could. But still, it's not so easy, in a life that's quite complete, to contemplate a change I haven't sought. Surrounded by my books, crowded into cozy nooks, it's not yet TIME FOR ROSES, so I thought. Now I can't believe what's happened, I've become a wretched mess, full of doubts and odd confusions I don't need. Though I find it hard to say, I admit I've lost my way, I can't fathom where the road I've taken leads. It can't be TIME FOR ROSES, I'm not feeling all that sweet. Instead I hear the bugle, that old familiar bugle, the one that keeps on sounding my retreat.   And yet ... I look forward to her/his presence, no, it's more than that, I fear. I've begun to play the classic love-struck fool. Paltry words cannot express what she/he says with one caress ... I wonder what would happen if I put aside my pose of deprecating ridicule, and changed my script to make room for a slightly different cast. I think IT'S TIME FOR ROSES ... I know IT'S TIME FOR ROSES, at last.   © 1997 Hallmark Music Co.   Back to previous page Back to SONGS main page