(feat. Willie Nelson)




She was a flower for the takin'

Her beauty cut just like a knife

And he was a banker from Macon

He swore he'd love her all a his life



He bought her a mansion on the mountain

With a formal garden and a lot of land

But paradise became her prison

That Georgia banker was a jealous man



Every time he'd talk about her

You could see the fire in his eyes

He'd say, "I would walk through hell on Sunday

To keep my rose in paradise"



He hired a man to tend the garden

And keep an eye on her while he was gone

Some say they ran away together

Some say the gardener left alone



Now the banker is an old man

And the mansion's crumbling down

He sits all day and stares at the garden

Not a trace of her was ever found



Every time he'd talk about her

You could see the fire in his eyes

He'd say, "I would walk through hell on Sunday

To keep my rose in paradise"



Now there's a rose out in the garden

It's beauty cuts just like a knife

They say that it even grows in the winter time

And blooms in the dead of the night