What you gonna call that pretty baby? You must call it one thing or another This one parted water, that one walked upon Perhaps I'll call this child a Rose of Sharon What's to be the ground that child walks upon? Will it be solid rock or shifting sand? Think I'll set him down on concrete highways Think I'll bring him up to walk the land I think I'll call him just another stranger Believe I'll call him knocking at your door Asking you for shelter from the lightning Space to rest upon your kitchen floor Will he be a man of constant sorrow? Born to beg a coat against the storm? Or will he want a house with many pillars? And fire of a night to keep him warm? And if a stranger comes for troubled shelter With hounds and torchlight on his midnight trail Will he find a moment free of madness there? And ears that still can hear to tell his tale? Then you could call that child the Rock of Ages You could call him raft upon the flood He has been the face of many races He has been the palace in the blood If that child should end up in a prison As sometimes chance will deal to honest men One room is like another to a stranger Any man of worth will be his friend Now what you gonna call that pretty baby? You must call it one thing or another Think I'll call him flame out on the water Think I'll call him shore between the sea Drop him on the rocks and he will shatter Cut him with a blade and he will bleed Plant him in the ground, he will rise up again Sometimes as a flower, sometimes a reed What you gonna call that pretty baby? You must call him one thing or another This one parted water, that one walked upon Perhaps I'll call this child a Rose of Sharon
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