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Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds: Where the Wild Roses Grow

GLI EXTRA DELLE CCG / AWS EXTRAS / LES EXTRAS DES CCG
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OriginalLa conferma che la tradizionale appalachiana (ma di origine irlandese)...
NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS: WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROWTHE WILLOW GARDEN
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
They grew down the river, all bloody and wild

When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped the tears that ran down my face

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, 'Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?'

On the second day he came with a single rose
Said: 'Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?'
I nodded my head, as I layed on the bed
He said, 'If I show you the roses will you follow?'

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, 'All beauty must die'
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
Down in a willow garden
Where me and my love did meet,
‎'Twas there we sat a courting
My love dropped off to sleep.‎

I had a bottle of the Burglar's wine
Which my true love did not know,
And so I poisoned that dear little girl
Down under the bank below.

I stobbed her with a dagger,
Which was a bloody knife,
I threw her in the river,
Which was a dreadful sight.‎

My father often told me
That money would set me free,
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly.‎

And now he sits in his own cottage door,
A-wiping his weeping eye,
And now he waits for his own dear son,
Upon the scaffold high.‎

My race is run beneath the sun,
Lo, hell's now waiting for me,
For I have murdered that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly.‎


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