Bed of Roses

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 living 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