Like the Rose, It Withers, It Dies
 By:  Verne Garrison, Valley Park, Mo
 	 August 18, 2007

Banjo tuned Eb, played in Key of D

Well (D) my spirits broke
I aint no good (A) any more
I am (D) looked on (G) as a (D) joke
My mind, my body (A) they are at (D) war

Little (D) things become (G) big to (D) me
A curt word, a woeful (A) glance
Worse (D) sometimes when (G) nothings (D) said
I wish no (A) more for another (D) chance

I have seen my (G) better (D) days
I am well aware of (A) that
But (D) I never figured (G) the haze
Or (D) to be tossed (A) away like an old (D) hat

My creed (G) says there is a place for (D) me
And I have made amends with the One that (A) counts
Best (D) for me with (G) all this (D) uncertainty
To call on Him as the (A) pressure (D) mounts

Yes, I have lost (G) the love of (D) thee
I can see it in your (A) eyes
My (D) partner since (G) fifty (D) three
Love, like the rose  it (A) withers, it (D) dies