Thorns

Here's the tale of a man of shame Bramble was this heathen's name He never cared if someone else paid the price If it was something that he wanted he would not think twice One day Bramble was a feelin' bold He went and stole a car he wasn't sold And late that night he took a soul with that car The man was singing blues and smoking cheap cigars A man named Gibbs now asleep in his grave To Bramble's thorn he'll remain a slave And Bramble's left to think of what he's torn Cuz now it's someone's roses who are left to mourn So we will bear them thorns of theirs Since they want to be unaware Cuz you can't escape the cold If they got thorns deep in their soul And you can try and tear them out But they'll fight back and scream and shout: "You can pull them out but they'll grow back From the roots planted in my heart." So we will bear them thorns of theirs Since they want to be unaware Cuz you can't escape the cold If they got thorns deep in their soul And you can try and tear them out But they'll fight back and scream and shout: "You can pull them out but they'll grow back From the roots planted in my heart."