Tom Waits — The Last Rose of Summer

I love the way the tattered clouds Blow wind across the sky The summer goes and leaves me With a tear in my eye I'm taking out my winter clothes My garden knows what is wrong The petals of my favorite rose In the shadows dark and long Though every year, it's very clear I should be carrying on But I can be found in the garden Singing this song When the last rose of summer is gone The last rose of summer is gone