Mother rose Every little morn'. To tend to me There she stood. Waiting by the door Selflessly. . Took my hand Took it with a smile tenderly. Mother rose Every little morn'. To tend to me Now's the time. To turn the view Now that I have you. . And I'll rise Every little morn'. To tend to thee When you rise. Open up your eyes You will see. There I'll be Waiting by the door. Come to me Take my hand. Look into your heart There I'll be. . Now's the time To turn the view. Now that I have you. . Now's the time To turn the view. Now that I have you. . Roses growing by my door Climbing up the vine. All the thorns and pain obscured Roses shall divine. Where we feel no pain And the love inside. Where roses climb Roses shall divine. Roses shall divine Holy mother. Mother of gold Mother with stories. Told and retold She felt our tears. Heard our sighs And turned to gold. Before our eyes She rose into the light. She rose into the light She rose into the light