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