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Well she's my Rose from the mountain where I come from Back in ol' Colorado where they reach up and touch the sun But I took her to the city where the air ain't clean And it's wilted my Rose from the mountain Where a good guitar picker makes more money than a cowboy So I thought I'd try my luck makin' records in L.A. But a lot of them boys make a lot more music than I can And if Rose don't like the city life I think I'll take her home Well I can see her in the mornin' runnin' barefoot through the meadow With a smile on her face and her hair a-hangin' long Well I love my sweet Rosey and oh she loves me So I'm takin' her back home to the mountain Where a good guitar picker makes more money than a cowboy So I thought I'd try my luck makin' records in L.A. But a lot of them boys make a lot more music than I can And if Rose don't like the city life I think I'll take her home She's my Rose from the mountain where I come from Back in ol' Colorado where they reach up and touch the sun But I took her to the city where the air ain't clean And it's wilted my Rose from the mountain Yes it's wilted my Rose from the mountain From Letras Mania