Corn Husker

She was a big girl
Almost buried by her parents
Lived through more then most could
Had a scar for every story
A lover of vice
She had a way with a bottle
While hopping freight
on the north line
She say the sights
Met the needle for the first time

She was temper and raven hair
A cause for constant worry
With fists made out of concrete
From California to the quarter
Her arms were bruised
Her veins like murder

And she just couldn’t help it
Some rest was all she needed
A lifetime bender on a broken dime
Shooting dirt on an income
of spare change
She was hell bent for home
Her feet hit the pavement so sore
So in an ancient cab on a rainy night
She found no comfort
Just locked doors and two evil eyes
He said little girl
You must be so scared
If I were in your place
I know I’d feel the same
But tonight is the last
you’ll walk these wicked streets
Can you feel it in your body
Tonight you will be dying

But she was temper and raven hair
A cause for constant worry
With fists made out of concrete
His own smirk soon
did change to terror
For in her hand she gripped a dagger

< Back to Lyrics