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
I'm going to pick that rose and watch her as she grows
In my garden