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They call me The Wild Rose but my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not for my name was Elisa Day
From the first day I met her I she was the one
As she [ . . . ] in my eyes and [ . . . ]
For her lips were the colour of the roses that grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he on my and entered the room
My subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a hand, he wiped up the that went down my face
They call me The Wild but my was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know for my was Day
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, 'Do you know the wild roses grow so sweet and and free?'
On the second day he smiled a rose
Said: 'Will you give me your loss and sorrow?'
I 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 call me it I do not know for my name was Day
On the third day he took me to the river
He me the roses and we kissed
And the last I heard was a muttered as he knelt above me 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 her goodbye, said, 'All beauty must die'
And I lent down and planted a rose her
Why they call me it I do not for my name was Elisa Day
From the first day I met her I she was the one
As she [ . . . ] in my eyes and [ . . . ]
For her lips were the colour of the roses that grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he on my and entered the room
My subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a hand, he wiped up the that went down my face
They call me The Wild but my was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know for my was Day
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, 'Do you know the wild roses grow so sweet and and free?'
On the second day he smiled a rose
Said: 'Will you give me your loss and sorrow?'
I 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 call me it I do not know for my name was Day
On the third day he took me to the river
He me the roses and we kissed
And the last I heard was a muttered as he knelt above me 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 her goodbye, said, 'All beauty must die'
And I lent down and planted a rose her
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