| They call me The Wild Rose
|
| But my name was Elisa Day
|
| Why they call me it, I do not know
|
| For my name was Elisa Day
|
| From the first day I saw her, I knew she was the one
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| She stared in my eyes and smiled
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| For her lips were the colour of the roses
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| That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
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| When he knocked on my door and entered the room
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| My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
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| He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
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| He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
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| They call me The Wild Rose
|
| But my name was Elisa Day
|
| Why they call me it, I do not know
|
| For my name was Elisa Day
|
| On the second day, I brought her a flower
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| She was more beautiful than any woman I've seen
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| I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow
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| So sweet and scarlet and free?"
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| On the second day, he came with a single red rose
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| He said, "Give me your loss and your sorrow"
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| I nodded my head as I lay on the bed
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| If I show you the roses, will you follow?
|
| They call me The Wild Rose
|
| But my name was Elisa Day
|
| Why they call me it, I do not know
|
| For my name was Elisa Day
|
| On the third day, he took me to the river
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| He showed me the roses and we kissed
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| And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
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| As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist
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| On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
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| She lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
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| And I kissed her goodbye, said, "All beauty must die"
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| And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
|
| They call me The Wild Rose
|
| But my name was Elisa Day
|
| Why they call me it, I do not know
|
| For my name was Elisa Day
|
| My name was Elisa Day
|
| For my name was Elisa Day |