She was a flower for the takin'

Her beauty cut just like a knife

He was a banker from Macon

He swore he'd love her all a his life He bought her a mansion on the mountain

With a formal garden and a lot a land

But paradise became her prison

That Georgia banker was a jealous man Every time he'd talk about her

You could see the fire in his eyes

He'd say, "I would walk through hell on Sunday

To keep my rose in paradise" He hired a man to tend the garden

And keep an eye on her while he was gone

Some say they ran away together

Some say that gardener left alone Now the banker is an old man

That mansion's crumbling down

He sits all day and he stares at the garden

Not a trace of her was ever found Every time he'd talks about her

You could see the fire in his eyes

He'd say, "I would walk through hell on Sunday

To keep my rose in paradise" Now there's a rose out in the garden

It's beauty cuts just like a knife

They say that it even grows in the winter time

And blooms in the dead of the night