(orbison/dees)When I was a boy I ran among the flowersLooking left and right at the bright arrayI played through the spring, whiled away the hoursLingered with the flowers every dayFlowers, pretty flowers, flowers, life’s bouquetFlowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the wayFlowers, pretty flowers, flowers, life’s bouquetFlowers, pretty flowers, flowers, along the wayWhen the summer ends and the storms of life are overWhen the winter comes and the petals fall awayThey may write it on my stone, he was just a rollerBut he stopped to pick some flowers along the wayFlowers, pretty flowers, flowers, life’s bouquetFlowers, picked some flowers, along the way