Spanish harlem

There is a rose in Spanish Harlem A rare rose up in Spanish Harlem It is a special one, its never seen in the sun It only comes up when the moon is on the run And all the stars are gleaming Its growing in the street right up through the concrete But soft and sound in pale moon There is a rose in Spanish Harlem A rare rose up in Spanish Harlem With eyes as black as coal that look down in my soul And start a fire there and 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