Lyrics:

She was called a scarlet woman by the people
Who would go to church, but left me in the street
With no parents of my own, I never had a home
And an 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 livin'
Is the only kind of life I 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
And I learned all the things that a man should know
From a woman not approved of, I suppose
But she died knowing that I really loved her
Off life's bramble bush, I picked a 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 livin'
Is the only kind of life I understand
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 livin'
Is the only kind of life I understand