She called a scarlet woman by the people Who would go to church but left me in the streets With parents of my own I never had a home And a eighteen year old boy has got eat She found me outside one Sunday morning Begging money from a man I didn't know She took in and wiped away my childhood A woman of the streets this lady Rose This bed of Rose's that I lay where I was taught to be a man This bed of Rose's where I'm livin' is only kind of life I'll understand
She was a handsome woman just thirty-five who was to in town by very few She managed a evening business like most of the town wished they could do I learned all the things that a man should From a woman not approved of I suppose She died knowing someone really loved her from life's bramble bush picked a rose This bed of Rose's... This bed of Rose's...