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Spanish Harlem |
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There is a rose in Spanish Harlem. |
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A red rose up in Spanish Harlem. |
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It is a special one, it's never seen the sun. |
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It only comes out when the moon is on the run. |
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And all the stars are gleaming. |
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It's growing in the street right up through the concrete. |
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But soft and sweet and dreamin'. |
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There is a rose in Spanish Harlem. |
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A red rose up in Spanish Harlem. |
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With eyes as black as coal that look down in my soul. |
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And starts a fire there and then I lose control. |
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I have to beg your pardon. |
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I'm going to pick that rose and watch her as she grows in my garden. |
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(There is a rose in Spanish Harlem). |
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La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la. |
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There is a rose in Spanish Harlem). |
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La-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la. |
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(There is a rose in Spanish Harlem). |
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FADE. |
