Young passion long hair women stashin’ things that brought it home.. Love ins and freedom talk of what will come.. free equal lives.. a place to roam..
She turned mocking stern.. something she learned.. cracked me up how she always knew.. when all else failed to take the blues from path and shoe.. Her stories matched each pain and burn..
When the laughter quiets down in country or town and day workers drifted to the morn.. we played and I stayed.. though doubtin’ the way.. she made me glad I was born..
I remember the best of the good times.. Somthin’ to hold when days turn dark.. No blame for her game the other.. mistakin’ what was for a lark..
First days we had promised change.. something saw never ends well.. she seemed what I needed to move.. saw answers in wedding bells..
From thirst for something new and strange.. doing what you never tell.. dyin’ poor soundin’ a groove.. silently crashed when it fell..
Long hair around slender shoulders.. friends always had compliments.. strong lairs passionate told her.. nowhere is where lies said are sent..
Think to the good times she held me.. warm with magic hips.. linked to the firewood crackle.. until I heard lies on her lips..