Bed Of Rose’s

This old Statler Brothers song tells a very touching story. I started to comment on the many layers of meaning I believe are in it, but then I realized that doing so would probably only do the song a huge injustice. I will say that, although I’ve heard the song uncountable times throughout my life, to this day it stirs my emotions and often my tears.

The video is just one still shot, so you won’t be missing anything if you want to play it and then scroll back up to the lyrics and read along.

Now I’ll let the song speak for itself:

Bed Of Rose’s

She was called a scarlet woman by the people
Who would go to church but left me in the streets

With no parents of my own, I never had a home
And a 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 streets, this lady, Rose

This bed of Rose’s that I lay on
Where I was taught to be a man
This bed of Rose’s where I’m livin’
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 a 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
Off life’s bramble bush, I picked a rose

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