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

As she stared in my eyes and smiled

For her lips were the colour of the roses

That grew down the river, all bloody and wild

When he knocked on my door and entered the room

My trembling subsided in his sure embrace

He would be my first man, and with a careful hand

He wiped at the tears that ran down my face

On the second day I brought her a flower

She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen

I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow

So sweet and scarlet and free?"

On the second day he came with a single red rose

Said: "Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?"

I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed

He said, "If I show you the roses will you follow?"

On the third day he took me to the river

He showed me the roses and we kissed

And the last thing I heard was a muttered word

As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow

And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief

As I kissed her goodbye, I said, "All beauty must die"

And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth