She calls you from a room somewhere in the city
Hear the sound of the ground through the static and pity
There's a vision of you in a bath of red water
sitting on her tongue like a silver dollar
And between your ears all her words are just litter
The alphabet is torn and your spit is getting bitter
You could make a mistake and judge her falsely
Your bed was just a hole where she couldn't sleep honestly
Her hair was the color of the corn where you were born
You could hear her voice when the north wind blew
and her skin held the sound of the rain on the pane
but she carried a knife for to cut you loose
She carried a knife for to cut you loose
You watch the leaves shiver underneath a black sky
Hold the moon in contempt for shedding any light
And you hunt the devil down and try to sell your soul
but if you want your woman back you'll have to knock her out cold
You've got a ring around your finger to prove that she was here
A white dress in the attic hanging by the rafter
A ghost in your kitchen with flowers in her hair
and eyes the color of alabaster
Her hair was the color of the corn where you were born
You could hear her voice when the north wind blew
and her skin was the same as the rain on the pane
but she carried a knife for to cut you loose
She carried a knife for to cut you loose