Wild Yellow Rose
Tears for the yellow rose mirrors in my heart
cause of the loss of you. Once a year you
would always hand pick me a wild yellow rose.
With the tears leaking from your eyes
and a kiss on your cheek, I'd hear take
this home cotton, And remember me.
The thought of you never handing me a
yellow rose hurts me so, Knowing I got one
for years has to last through all my tears.
Till the day I see the leaking from your hazel eyes
as I walk through heavens gate with a wild
yellow rose I'll be handing you we have to wait.
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