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Her people came from Nineveh
His people came from Rural Shade
They met in the tent
Of the traveling Nazarene
She took his big hand in hers
Led him from the tent to the piney woods
Just sixteen
A few months later they got married
A few more months RoseofSharon got born
While he was out cutting pulp
A logging chain whipped
He never walked again
It was an accidental thing
So he drank when they had money
She worked as a serving girl
In the rich folks houses in town
RoseofSharon grew up
Cutting pictures out of magazines
Of houses big and clean
RoseofSharon run away
With the boy selling bibles
Crossed the line in Shreveport
Turned sixteen
Calls her mother from the payphone
A laundromat in Natchez
Itâs not exactly what I dreamed
Palestine, Palestine
Oh Palestine
Weâve got Satan on the run
Shouts the Nazarene