Prints available from $15.99

Available as matted print, framed print, canvas wrap, poster, greeting card print, skin

featured in If It Doesn’t Belong 11-20-2009
featured in Imaginative Realism 11-19-2009

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Eliza Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Eliza 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 out the tears that ran down my face

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Eliza Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Eliza Day

On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I’d seen
I said, “Do you know where the wild roses grow,
so sweet and scarlet and free?”

On the second day he came with a single red rose
He said: “Give me your loss and your sorrow”
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
“If I show you the roses will you follow?”

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Eliza Day
Why they call me that I do not know
For my name was Eliza Day

On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye, said, “All beauty must die”
And I lent down and planted a rose between her teeth

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Eliza Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Eliza Day
For my name was Eliza Day
For my name was Eliza Day