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