Beware of your heart, it's cruel and it's careless
More dangerous by far than the beasts in the wood
Beware wicked thoughts that come creeping and crawling
The shadow of dreams that can never come good
She's the talk of the town, the pride of the valley
Comes out with the sun and pours gold on the day
She knows all your names and smiles warm on your faces
But Rosabel's wild as the briar in May
When each house lay asleep, she's dropped from her window
In a blanket of darkness, crept out of the town
And she's skipped up to Ferlen woods picking dog roses
No fear of the shadows that watched all around
She's plucked up her fill and laughed in the moonshine
In warm summers dreaming, she's danced across the moor
First twisting and turning, then tripping and falling
Lifeless she's lain on the heather bed floor
When she's woke up, the fire's hot burning
She's tucked in silk sheets with Lord John watching there
Saying, "Sleep, beauty, sleep, lose your mind in warm dreaming
You're safe in my home and well mending with care"
In fever she's burned, but time's proved in healing
Made ready to leave but been blocked on the way
"Oh, you thief, you were wrong to go picking my roses
And for stealing from me, it's right here that you'll stay"
"Oh, John, you're so proud, and silent and stubborn
Much bigger than most and unkempt, it is true
But I've grown fond of your ways and your quiet woodland keeping
Be I thief or no, I will stay here with you"
It's seven years gone and seven years married
And seven slow years she's been counting the hours
"My husband's uncomely and will not look on me
I long rue the day I went picking his flowers"
Now take heed, young girls, is Rose's undoing
There's a diary she keeps of her sorrows and cares
If you write yourself down, then you're asking for trouble
It's the nature of words to be read and be shared
One grey summer's morning, she's slipped into town
With excuses of shopping, but for fresh company
Oh, and who should be there but some boys from the army
And James, the most charming in every degree
It isn't by chance he's strolled past her window
Nor by chance she's met him out walking alone
And they've tied up their love in long July dresses
Till with the steel dawn she's gone tiptoeing home
She's gone to the kitchen, but Lord John's crept after
He's found her at writing and read just a few lines
Oh, he rants and he rages and tears up the pages
In the grief of betrayal, she's fled from his cries
She's run for the woods and he's tried to call after
But the chill death of heartbreak has stolen his phone
And she's caught in the thorns of his wild dog roses
There James has found her cold, dead as the stone
Beware of your heart, it's cruel and it's careless
More dangerous by far than the beasts in the wood
Beware wicked thoughts that come creeping and crawling
The shadow of dreams that can never come good
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