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

 [bad word] 
 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 

 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?"

 [bad word] 

 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 stood smiling 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