Spanish Harlem

There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
It is a special one
It's never seen the sun
It only comes up when the moon is on the run
And all the stars are gleaming
It's growing in the street
Right up through the concrete
But soft and sweet and dreaming

There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
With eyes as black as coal
That looks down in my soul
And starts a fire there and then I lose control
I have to beg your pardon
I'm going to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden

I'm going to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden

La la la...

My beautiful rose