She was a flower for the takin'   Her beauty cut just like a knife   He was a banker from Macon   He swore he'd love her all a his life      He bought her a mansion on the mountain   With a formal garden and a lot a land   But paradise became her prison   That Georgia banker was a jealous man      Every time he'd talk about her   You could see the fire in his eyes   He'd say, "I would walk through hell on Sunday   To keep my rose in paradise"      He hired a man to tend the garden   And keep an eye on her while he was gone   Some say they ran away together   Some say that gardener left alone      Now the banker is an old man   That mansion's crumbling down   He sits all day and he stares at the garden   Not a trace of her was ever found      Every time he'd talks about her   You could see the fire in his eyes   He'd say, "I would walk through hell on Sunday   To keep my rose in paradise"      Now there's a rose out in the garden   It's beauty cuts just like a knife   They say that it even grows in the winter time   And blooms in the dead of the night