She was called a scarlet woman by the people Who would to church but left me in the streets With no parents of my own I never had a And a eighteen year old boy has got to eat found me outside one Sunday morning Begging money from a man I didn't know She me in and wiped away my childhood A woman of the streets this lady Rose This bed of Rose's that lay on where I was taught to be a man This bed of Rose's where I'm is the only kind of life I'll understand
She was a handsome woman thirty-five who was spoken to in town by very few She managed a late evening business like most of the town wished they could I learned all the things that a man should know From a not approved of I suppose She died knowing someone really loved from life's bramble bush I picked a rose This bed of Rose's... This bed of Rose's...