Rod McKuen wrote this song over 40 years ago. It has been recorded by Glenn Yarbrough a couple of times.

ROSE

I married Rose in twenty-one. We got a little farm.
The first year out, the barn burned down and 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 want to curse.

CHORUS: "That's okay," Rose'd say. "Don't you worry none.
We'll have good times by and by next fall when the work's all done."

I watched her hands grow rough and red from pickin' in the fields
And 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. CHORUS

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 and forty-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 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's not the wind at all but Rose a-singing to me. CHORUS TWICE

Words & Music by Rod McKuen © 1960 by Rod McKuen