the tattered tale of a housewife - john carcer lyrics
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one morning
she walked past the yard
waving bye
to a working man he said aye
so much joy she has a day free
a glass of scotch or lit cigar
to refresh the morning
to understand what comes till dusk
it’s not dawn but a knock on the door
a dark man with a wide figure and yellow t**th
he opens his eyes to see what he desires
a fresh taste of western blood
rare eyes for such a freak hidden in plain sight
he wept his wrath
tattered and torn cloth
blood of a generation stained on oak wood walls
he dragged her through the cornfields
as the sun lays down
never to be seen again
my pretty gal
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