When Papa was lyin' on his death bed
He told me a story I'll never forget
He recalled when Mama and he were first wed
And when she first planted her small flower bed

He spoke of the first rose that bloomed in the spring
And how she cared for it when there was no rain
He told how the fragrance of the flowers
How she made her Bible marker from the first one that bloomed

He said of all the memories that I now hold
My favorite is her marker, the faded pressed rose

[instrumental break]

Papa's been gone now just one year today
And I placed from Mama's garden pretty flowers on her grave
I'm holdin' in my hand the first bloom she ever grow'd
From her Bible, the faded pressed rose

And now when I read from the good book they loved
The old home is filled with their spirit from above
And their memories cheer me through my lonely hours
When I remember all the love that they shared in the flower

Now the fondest of my memories that I now hold
Is the marker from her Bible, the faded pressed rose
The marker from Mama's Bible, the faded pressed rose