What you gonna call that pretty baby?

You must call it one thing or another

This one parted water, that one walked upon

Perhaps I'll call this child a Rose of Sharon

What's to be the ground that child walks upon?

Will it be solid rock or shifting sand?

Think I'll set him down on concrete highways

We'll bring him up to walk the land

Think I'll call him just another stranger

Believe I'll call him knocking at your door

Asking you for shelter from the lightning

Space to rest upon your kitchen floor

Will he be a man of constant sorrow?

Born to beg a coat against the storm?

Will he want a house with marble pillars?

And fire of a night to keep him warm?

And if a stranger comes for troubled shelter

With hounds and torchlight on his midnight trail

Will he find a moment free of madness there?

And ears that still can hear to tell his tale?

Then you could call that child the Rock of Ages

You could call him raft upon the flood

He has been the face of many races

He has been the palace in the blood

If that child should end up in a prison

As sometimes chance will deal to honest men

One room is like another to a stranger

Any man of worth will be his friend

Now what you gonna call that pretty baby?

You must call it one thing or another

Think I'll call him flame out on the water

Think I'll call him shore between the sea

Drop him on the rocks and he will shatter

Cut him with a blade and he will bleed

Plant him in the ground, he will rise up again

Sometimes as a flower, sometimes a reed

What you gonna call that pretty baby?

You must call him one thing or another

This one parted water, that one walked upon

Perhaps I'll call this child a Rose of Sharon