The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
The Middle East
My baby, working at the coffee shop
She said she never would again
I’m sorry baby, things never worked out
The way they should have back then
Her daddy taught her everything
His daddy taught him
She comes down slow from the mountain fall
And I’m her sea
Her mother
Tried several times
To leave her husband
And house behind
Pretty lady holds my gaze beneath
The mulberry tree
With hair like the morning
She comes with fiery cavalry
She knows just what to do with
The tear in my sleeve
Her tailor’s hands gone to work
In the night while I sleep
And in the morning
It’s good as new
I slip it over
My shoulder
And in the morning
I feed her dogs
With a buck in my pocket
Make my way home