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Mirrors in the room go black and blueOn a Sunday morning in Saturday shoesWe don't choose who we loveWe don't chooseIn a Sunday suit, with the Saturday beatShe don't love who she choseShe don't need what she doDaylight comes in exposin'Saturday bruises and cold rosesCold rosesNothin' but the sunlight'll help you grow from underneath your bedYou can't see the windowWe don't choose what we seeWe don't chooseFortunate and angry just like a childAll that money buys you medicine but can't buy you timeWe don't choose what we loveAnd she don't need what she gotDaylight comes in exposin'Saturday bruises and cold rosesCold rosesCold rosesCold rosesCold roses From Letras Mania