Her people come from Nineveh

His people come from Rural Shade

They met in the tent

Of the traveling Nazarene

​

She took his big hand in hers

Led him from the tent to the piney woods

They both sixteen

​

A few months later they got married

A few more months RoseofSharon got born

While he was out, he's cutting pulp

 

A logging chain whipped

He'd never walk again

It was an accidental thing

​

So he drank when they had money

She worked as a serving girl

In the rich folks houses in town

​

RoseofSharon grew up

She's cutting pictures out of magazines

Of houses big, clean

​

RoseofSharon she run away

With a boy selling bibles

They crossed the line in Shreveport

Turned sixteen

​

Calls her mother from the payphone

A laundromat in Natchez

It’s not exactly what I dreamed

​

Palestine, Palestine

Oh Palestine

We’ve got Satan on the run

Shouts the Nazarene

​

Palestine, Palestine

Yea Palestine

We’ve got Satan on the run

Shouts the Nazarene

​