| I want to take you to a little room | 
| A little room where all the roses bloom | 
| I want to lead you into Nature’s hall | 
| Where ev’ry year the roses give a ball | 
| They have an orchestra up in the trees | 
| For their musicians are the birds and bees | 
| And they will sing us a song | 
| As we are strolling along | 
| In sunny Roseland, where summer breezes are playing | 
| Where the honey bees are «A-Maying» | 
| There all the roses are swaying | 
| Dancing while the meadow brook flows | 
| The moon when shining is more than ever designing | 
| For 'tis ever then I am pining | 
| Pining to be sweetly reclining | 
| Somewhere in Roseland | 
| Beside a beautiful rose | 
| The ball is over and tulips meet | 
| Their little kisses are so short and sweet | 
| The lilies nod to the forget-me-nots | 
| When they’re departing in their flower pots | 
| But all the roses with their spirits high | 
| Remain to love until they droop and die | 
| And dear, why shouldn’t it be | 
| Just so with you and with me | 
| In sunny Roseland, where summer breezes are playing | 
| Where the honey bees are «A-Maying» | 
| There all the roses are swaying | 
| Dancing while the meadow brook flows | 
| The moon when shining is more than ever designing | 
| For 'tis ever then I am pining | 
| Pining to be sweetly reclining | 
| Somewhere in Roseland | 
| Beside a beautiful rose |