Though it's been a while now, I can still feel so much pain, like the knife that cuts you, the wound heals, but the scar, that scar remains. I know I could have saved our love that night if I'd known what to say, instead if making love, we both made our separate ways. Now I hear you've found somebody new, and that I never meant that much to you, to hear that tears me up inside, and to see you cuts me like a knife. Every rose has its thorn, just like every night has its dawn, just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song, every rose has its thorn.