(Smith/Shanahan)



Mother rose Every little morn' 

To tend to me There she stood 

Waiting by the door Selflessly 



Took my hand Took it with a smile tenderly 

Mother rose Every little morn' 

To tend to me Now's the time 

To turn the view Now that I have you 



And I'll rise Every little morn' 

To tend to thee When you rise 

Open up your eyes You will see 

There I'll be Waiting by the door 

Come to me Take my hand 

Look into your heart There I'll be 



Now's the time To turn the view 

Now that I have you 



Now's the time To turn the view 

Now that I have you 



Roses growing by my door Climbing up the vine 

All the thorns and pain obscured Roses shall divine 

Where we feel no pain And the love inside 

Where roses climb Roses shall divine 

Roses shall divine Holy mother 

Mother of gold Mother with stories 

Told and retold She felt our tears 

Heard our sighs And turned to gold 

Before our eyes She rose into the light 

She rose into the light She rose into the light