Down in old southern texas i wandered one day,
where the tropical sea breezes blow.
i there fell in love with a flower so rare
and they called her the galveston rose.
Her heart was as true as her blue smiling eyes
and as fair as the lily that grows.
and the finest of gold in no way could compare
with the curls of my galveston rose.
I grew jealous and falsely accused her one day,
said her love i no longer should know.
i've been true please believe me her little heart cried
but i left her my galveston rose.
Little then did i think that sometimes i'd repay
and would reap every sorrow and care;
but as years passed along i grew lonely each day
for the one i had left waiting there.
So i wrote to my darling and said i was wrong,
i'll return dear if you'll only wed.
but soon came a letter my flower had died
and these are the words that i read.
Your sweetheart is peacefully sleeping tonight
in a grave where the white violets grow;
and enclosed, there's a curl a last token of love,
and a note from your galveston rose.
I was innocent dear though you left me alone,
but remember i loved only you.
and the lock that's enclosed is a curl from your rose,
who'll be waiting in heaven for you?