Learn too much to ever understand
Lover's quarrel, snarl away their happiness
Tattered shreds of petals leave a fading trail
In the quicksand of their mind they disappear
And the stone stares at the sculptor asks "Are you absurd?"
But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady
Smiles change into a sneer washed away by whiskey tears
Poets agonize they cannot find the words
Strangers in a foreign land, strike a match with a trembling hand
Walk away both knowing they are alright
But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady
Kisses crumble in a web of loneliness
The painter paints his brushes back, through the canvas runs a crack
Sarcastic students tell them not to fight no more
Still nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady
Portrait of the pain never answers back
But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady
The lamp goes out the evening now is closed
Complain about the present using memories
Smoke dreams of escaping souls are drifting by
And the flower lady hobbles home without a sale
Feeble, aged a-people almost to their knees
Soldiers disillusioned to come home from the war
Not a pause to hold the rose, even she no longer knows
Never found their pot of gold, wrinkled hands pound weary holes
And they argue through the night, black is black and white is white
The door is slammed, it's over once again
But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady
But nobody's buying flowers from the flower lady
Dull the pain of living as they slowly die
Each line screams out you're old, you're old, you're old
It's written by the poison pen, voices break before they bend
