Where the wild roses grow in Alberta-|On the banks of the Gooseberry lake|There's a rose I suppose that you hearda-|She's as mild as a wild Irish wake||Like a thorn she was born to be contrary |Like a boy's was her joy raising cain.|The wildest rose that ever drove on the prairie |behind the wheel of a big truckload of grain.|Chorus|Little k little d little l-a-n-g-Her name was just plain kd lang|But her main claim to fame was how she sang with a twang|And jumped around like a 'rangytang-lady k.d. lang|k.d. lang, k.d. lang, she jumped around like a 'rangytang-|lady k.d.lang.||From her home down in consort Alberta |near the tracks of that old railroad line||With her hair she could scare old Medusa, |While she sang like a young Patsy Cline.||It wasn't long till her songs got her landed|On the stage with those outrageous clothes-|There were skirts over shirts, boots, and trousers, |Hangin down from this wild Alberta Rose.|Chorus:|Now she toured north and south of the border-|And recorded with many famous names...|Though her style it was wild and outrageous, |Her star just kept rising to fame-||With her voice that was new and exciting, |She was called to those Juno awards|She made a leap on the stage and she got one |And took it home to Alberta, Boy George!|Chorus:|||