Black Thorn

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Natalie Duncan

as Duncan herself puts it, “If you want to know who I am, all you have to do is listen to my music.”

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My head is in a black frame got
your words all over my grave
He was a picture like no one would believe.
With a hit flask and a white mask,
a flame head and an empty bed, I
walked a mile out of town just to see.
Gravel 'neath the portrait,
your paint covering up the crack, so cracked up
if your coming back to visit me.
He was the wealthiest poor man and he was the emptiest tunnel, 
'neath the dark, darkest river to the sea.

You were my black thorn.
Underneath my ground and now my,
My shaking hands forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.

With a flat hat and a sharpened nose a body
that crumbled under the cold and the
wind and hail and rain of our bitter streets.
He called me sweetheart, I sold him my soul
in return for his charm and he used
my pain to suck my blood, to suck my blood.
He came back twice and I wore him like an old shirt.
Wrapped me up and cut up my skin
and made me weep, weep, weep weep.
Oh, my head is in a black frame,
got your words branded on my brain I
went insane so he could feel like a man again.

You were my black thorn.
Underneath my ground and now,
My shaking hands forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.

And, 

You were my black thorn.
Underneath my ground and now,
My shaking hands forever bleed.

Oh and I say it to you,
You were my black thorn.
Underneath my ground and now,
My shaking hands forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.
Forever bleed.

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