I thought I was in Heaven
When I was just seven.
It was never too late
to stand behind the gate and wait
To gather blackberries.

So I was in desperate pursuit
of the hidden fruit
Lovely, sweet and ripe
no need to wash or wipe
Gathering blackberries.

Now it was always said
"Why are your books red"
I thought she meant read.
It was the juice
A true excuse
Oh to gather blackberries.