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 
 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 up 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 
 And 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: 'Give 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?' 

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 I lent down and planted a rose between her teeth