This song was first written in '98, then lyrically rennovated shortly before this recording. Pardon the programed drums and general clubiness of this mix, it was sort of an experiment. Craig Ferguson plays mandolin and dobro.


Ah, here she comes now Chin up to the rays of the morning sun Coming down the steps into the street She's gonna get out while her body's strong and young She's headed for those lettered avenues In her faded overalls and high-top shoes She's got swing in her stride A rose on the Lower Eastside
And in this city where she walks Brick and stone are stacked up to the sky She's standing there in Mama's kitchen door Who gave her any right to hold her head so high? Now, I'm gonna paint her portrait on this wall With her hair tied up in a wine-red scarf and all She's got color and pride A rose on the Lower Eastside
Well, I've been down these streets before In the heart of winter darkness on my own With no sweet mama to come through And save me from the fate of going home She's given me a new start, my friend And I ain't even thinkin' about the end 'cause she's the one I walk beside She's a rose on the Lower Eastside
Past the Cathedral of Our Lady And into that little shop with old guitars Hell's Angels hide out from the sun That's shining through their smoky, stained-glass hearts All up and down those lettered avenues Ain't this where you would be if you could choose? In love and satisfied With a rose on the Lower Eastside And she's the one I walk beside A rose…On the Lower Eastside