Where the wild roses grow

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 She stared in my eyes and smiled For her lips were the colour of the roses That 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 at the tears that ran down my face