There Is a Rose in Spanish Harlem

Have you ever ridden the subway with this guy? I've seen him a couple times riding the 4 into Brooklyn. He's got this super gravelly, robotic voice, like he's had a tracheotomy. He doesn't even collect donations. He just croons into the mike, like he's alone, without making eye contact with anyone on the train.

It's sight to behold, especially since most of the people on the train make no effort to hide their laughter. They're cracking up and pointing at him (unlike the guy sitting next to him in the photo who's trying to pretend nothing's happening).

I was giggling pretty hard myself, but trying to be discrete about it, when during the musical interlude, halfway through "There is a Rose in Spanish Harlem," he broke into a free form spoken word/rap bit about a romance with a "brown girl." The man I was standing next to, who practically had tears streaming down his cheeks, kept saying to me, "He likes you. He likes you!" I just shrugged and kept laughing as I was pretty sure that the this crazy guy was oblivious to my presence. Naturally, the commotion hit a fever pitch during the spoken word segment, and when a homeless woman got on the train and started giving her spiel for money, for some inexplicable reason everyone totally freaked out. They were hooting and cackling, but that guy didn't pay them any attention. He kept right on singing— a consummate professional!

Anyway, out of curiosity I looked up the words to the song. People criticize modern pop music for being raunchy, but at least they're to the point. These lyrics are downright nasty, albeit in an insidious manner. Enjoy!

There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
It is a special one,
It's never seen the sun
It only comes out
When the moon is on the run
And all the stars are gleaming

It's growing in the street
Right up through the concrete
Soft and dreamin'

I found a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
With eyes as black as coal
That look down in my soul
And starts a fire there
And then 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

There is a rose in Spanish Harlem
A red rose up in Spanish Harlem
It is a special one,
It's never seen the sun
It only comes out
When the moon is on the run
And all the stars are gleaming
I'm going to pick that rose
And watch her as she grows
In my garden