Everyone knows the tale of Cross-Eyed Mary
But silent remains the story of Cross-Eyed Rose
A simple, loving girl, lost one May morning
Vanished while picking flowers, where the wild river flows
The village whispered, hearts filled with dread
Where has the young girl gone? they said
Cross-Eyed Rose, where did you wander
Lost in the meadow, as we ponder
The postman rode out at the break of day
The doctor sped forth, without delay
The townsfolk searched as the chapel bell rang
The pastor prayed for her, as the choir sadly sang
By sunset, in the tall grass her body lay
Turning sweet May's spring into winter's gray
A mystery wrapped in the morning's frost
A gentle soul that the town had lost
Cross-Eyed Rose, now forever asleep
In the meadow's embrace, the secrets you keep
The village mourns, the candles burn low
For Cross-Eyed Rose, the girl we barely know
Cross-Eyed Rose, now forever asleep
In the meadow's embrace, the secrets you keep
The village mourns, the candles burn low
For Cross-Eyed Rose, the girl we barely know
And so the spring became a chill
A shadow cast over the hill
The flowers she held, now pressed in books
As memories in sorrowful looks
As the sun sets, we remember Rose
In the heart of the town, where the cold wind blows