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
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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