The ungrateful few
who tangle inside
don't care where they're born,
they're growing up wild.
The rain makes her thirsty
and fightin' to go.
Her mind turns determined,
dark as a storm.
So her love has
grown as sharp as
a bramble rose.
Like a real good woman
nobody knows.
I get so ashamed
for making you blue,
I come back to this porch
to make it all up to you.
The rain's got me thirsty,
falling wasteful, and slow.
I'm restless enough,
And so scared to go.
So her love has
turned as hard as
a bramble rose.
Just a real good woman
nobody knows.
Do you think she'll be happy
out on the wind?
Do you think she'll get half way
'fore it's rainin' again?
Will she find that she's true
when it's hardest to be?
Well, the notions she follows
have all turned on me.
Once her love has
blown as far as
a bramble rose,
just a real good woman
nobody knows.
Just a real good woman
nobody knows.