She was called a scarlet woman by the people
Who would go to church but left me on the street
And 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 street this lady rose
This bed of roses that I lay on
Where I was taught to be a man
This bed of rose's where I'm living
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 the 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
Of life's bramble bush I picked a rose
This bed of roses that I lay on
Where I was taught to be a man
This bed of rose's where I'm living
Is the only kind of life I understand
This bed of roses that I lay on
Where I was taught to be a man
This bed of rose's where I'm living
Is the only kind of life I'll understand

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