Grandfather Rosebush
There are roses that grow on a vine, on a vine,
There are roses that grow on a tree;
But my little Rose
Grows on ten little toes,
And she is the rose for me.
Come out in the garden, Rosy Posy!
Come visit your cousins, child, with me.
If you are my grandchild,
it stands to reason
That Grandpapa Rosebush
I must be.
Oh! fair is the rose on the vine, on the vine,
And fair is the rose on the stalk;
But there’s only one rose
Who has ten little toes,
And it’s that rose I’ll take for a walk.
Come put on your calyx, Rosy Posy!
Put on your calyx and come with me;
For if you are my grandchild,
It stands to reason
That Grandpapa Rosebush
I must be.