Maude has got old wringed on her fingers Tells her story gives you diamonds free Little of this, of that and a scent off her tangerine tree She spoke grace, walked her shoes, talked for miles Spoke and your face would brighten, smile Stars came down, tried to savor her skin The moon went round, letting demons in
What if I'd had my pockets runs dry What if I saw my first child die What if I weren't all right What if I held the night So black, so bright Maude would lose track of summer and winter She'd pour her corn whiskey back, up across skies Thread her days, her clothes, gave up blind beautiful eyes