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Big Big Train
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Brambling
She will always be the first,
And so you will never forget.
She is a thorn to pierce
Your tender heart.
And this wound that hurt you so
Is the hurt you need to grow.
Cry.
Hungrily tasting her berry-stained lips,
You're planting your kisses right there.
Rise up before her now,
She holds you in her hands.
Brings you from pattern to blue,
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In her you'll drown.
And this wound that hurt you so
Is the hurt you need to grow.
Cry.
The thorn upon the rose.
The boy becomes a man.
Although she is the first,
He'll not be the last.
And this wound that hurt you so
Is the hurt you need to grow.
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