| Mama sold roses in the year '49
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| They were made out of paper and sold for a dime
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| She carved out a living by walking the streets
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| Crying, who’ll buy my roses with a voice soft and sweet
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| If love was a measure of diamonds or gold
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| No one could afford the roses she sold
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| She’d shape the crape' paper and softly she’d say
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| Your mama is tired it’s been a long day
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| You’ll find her on the corner at her flower stand
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| Painted on an old sign, roses by hand
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| They’re only made of paper would you be so kind
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| Buy one for the lady they only cost a dime
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| Twenty-nine years have gone by since mom passed away
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| If you’re looking for roses they’re there on display
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| They’re not made of paper and they don’t cost a dime
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| Each rose in the window has a two dollar sign
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| You’ll find her on the corner at her flower stand
|
| Painted on an old sign, roses by hand
|
| They’re only made of paper would you be so kind
|
| Buy one for the lady they only cost a dime
|
| Buy one for the lady they only cost a dime |