They call me The Wild Rose But my name is Elisa Day Why they call me it I do not know For my name is 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