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 his life.
He bought her mansion up on a mountain,
With a floral garden and alot of land.
But paradise became her prison
That Georgia banker was a jealous man
And Every time he talked about her
Cm G# A#
You could see the fire in his eyes
...and 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 that banker He's an old man
That mansions crumblin' down
He sits all day and stares at the garden
Not a trace of her was ever found
Now there's a rose out in the garden
It's beauty cuts just like a knife
Some say it even grows in the winter time
and blooms in the dead of the night