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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
From the day I met her I she was the one
As she [ . . . ] in my eyes and [ . . . ]
For her lips were the colour of the roses grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he came on my and the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and a careful hand, he wiped up the tears that went my face
They call me The Wild Rose but my was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know for my name was Elisa Day
On the second day I her a flower
She was beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, 'Do you the roses so sweet and scarlet and free?'
On the second day he smiled with a single rose
'Will you me your loss and your sorrow?'
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
'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 for my name was Day
On the third day he took me to the river
He gave 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 grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind as a thief
As I told her goodbye, said, 'All beauty must die'
And I lent down and planted a rose between her
Why they call me it I do not know for my name was Elisa Day
From the day I met her I she was the one
As she [ . . . ] in my eyes and [ . . . ]
For her lips were the colour of the roses grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he came on my and the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and a careful hand, he wiped up the tears that went my face
They call me The Wild Rose but my was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know for my name was Elisa Day
On the second day I her a flower
She was beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, 'Do you the roses so sweet and scarlet and free?'
On the second day he smiled with a single rose
'Will you me your loss and your sorrow?'
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
'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 for my name was Day
On the third day he took me to the river
He gave 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 grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind as a thief
As I told her goodbye, said, 'All beauty must die'
And I lent down and planted a rose between her
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