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The lord of the manor
Loves the upstairs maid
And I tend the flowers
Of the seeds he lays
His collar is velvet,
His hands are real soft
She sleeps with the master
Im awake in the loft
I wish in the bedroom
The sheets were all torn
I wish that the flowers
Would only grow thorns
The lord of the manor
Has a wife of grey
He pays the chauffeur
To drive her away
The lord and my baby
Are upstairs alone
The one who could stop them
Is physically gone
I wish in the bedroom
The sheets were all torn
I wish that the flowers
Would only grow thorns