From the album WINTER WEEPING / SUMMER JOY
Words & music by Christie Rose
Produced & engineered by Jeff Zipp at The Recording Suite, Vancouver BC
Mastered by Brock McFarlane, CPS Mastering
You asked me to play barber in your kitchen
but I never tied you to the chair
We were laughing, power stems elsewhere
you trusted my hands and I was gentle
when I cut your hair
Every old myth will be re-written,
We did not need permission
to make it holy and new
and true to our own affair
And it's been a while gone by since that night
and a sweet walk down Cherry Tree Lane
Laid low, raised high, Hell, Heaven,
you've seen me in my weakness and shame
But I came around a mountain
in a getaway car, when you asked me to come,
n' you were flyin' in from somewhere farther
than the highway runs
Oh, they say a rose is a rose is a rose is a rose...
But I ain't that kind a' rose
And on and on and on the world persists
with hearts kept tender under thickened skin
We'll keep a hold of the original manuscript
like the handwritten scribbles of old Miss Dickensen
And every line in song will be re-written
but this one was not commissioned,
it's holy and new, and true
so do not compare
Downtown between the office towers
you can hear the Coca Cola trucks backin' up,
beepin' against the old cathedral's chimes
At the end of ages what still stands?
What's here in the present now,
but disregards the times?
And, oh, although now everywhere you go y' know it seems like there's a million roses...
I ain't that kind a' rose
So you asked me, and I played barber in the kitchen,
but there was no rope bound around the chair
We laughed, we knew love's power,
I said "Trust my hands, I'll be gentle with your hair"
Well, did you trust my hands?
I tried to be gentle.