(Smith/Shanahan)
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