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