Just before it rains   The wind whips 'round the balcony   And the sky closes   On the English roses      And she'll be pacin'   'Round and 'round and   'Round and 'round her room   These storms always find here to remind her      To the endless sky   The pink over gray   She looks for an answer   But it's too late      Maybe it's true   Some things were just   Never meant to be   Maybe not      This is a story   Fruit cut from the vine   Forgot and left to rot   Long before it's time      This is a story   About the girl   Who lived next door   Looking for someone to hold      A wish made on a star   Brought her here tonight   At a courtyard she waits   A thousand broken dates      But she holds the hymnal   Where so carefully pressed   Is the English rose   She laid to rest      It's only a story   Flowers in full bloom   Bouquets in every room      This is a story   Fruit cut from the vine   Looking for someone to hold