ROSE
(Rod McKuen)
Rod McKuen


I married Rose in Twenty-One
we got a little farm
the first year out
the barn burned down
I broke my good right arm.

From then on in things got bad
I guess they could have been worse
but seeing Rose in rags all day
made me wanna curse.

That's okay Rose'd say
don't you worry none
we'll have good times by and by
next fall when the works all done.

I watched her hands grow rough and red
from pickin' in the fields
putting up in Mason Jars
what little crops they'd yield.

I'd find what jobs there were in town
most times there were none
but Rose'd still have supper a waitin'
at night when the day was done.

That's okay Rose'd say
don't you worry none
we'll have good times by and by
next fall when the works all done.

Our first-born had a face like Rose
and I guess a temper like mine
she'd sleep all day and cry all night
but she grew up and married fine.

Our only son went off to fight
in Nineteen Forty and Four
a year went by and a telegram said
he ain't comin' home no more.

One winter night in Fifty Nine
Rose took a terrible chill
she went to sleep and she didn't wake up
I guess she's sleeping still.

But sometimes when the wind is singing
high up in the Chinaberry tree
it seems it not the wind at all
but Rose singing to me.

That's okay Rose'd say
don't you worry none
we'll have good times by and by
next fall when the works all done.

That's okay Rose'd say
don't you worry none
we'll have good times by and by
next fall when the works all done.



(Contributed by Greg Kitz - February 2003)