In a field by a river, my love and I did lie,
And on my naked shoulder, she too proud to cry.
She said that I must leave her, an icy tear she froze,
How could I melt the heart of a Wild Irish Rose?
Well a gypsy she has made of me, a servent of the street,
And back to bed I've travelled to taste a love as sweet.
Well the heart it knows no reasons, and reason never knows,
As I lie with them I'm thinking of a Wild Irish Rose.
Well I saw the city of angels - it brought a devil out in me,
And Hell's hotel on Sunset showed a whore no mercy.
As the orange sky was screaming from the roof I let her go,
These are the dizzying heights that brought me my Wild Irish Rose.
Now red is the rose that she layed on my grave.
A life is what she wanted and a life I surely gave,
Like a hundred men before me, they lay lieing here in rows.
Young men, bloody, as a Wild Irish Rose.
Writer(s): Evans David, Hewson Paul David
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