Woman With A Past
There was a woman tore off a red velvet gown
And slashed the white skin of her right shoulder
And a crimson zigzag wrote a finger nail hurry

There was a woman spoke six short words
And quit a life that was old to her
For a life that was new

There was a woman swore an oath
And gave hoarse whisper to a prayer
And it was all over

She was a thief and a whore and a kept woman
She was a thing to be used and played with
She wore an ancient scarlet sash

The story is thin and wavering,
White as a face in the first apple blossoms
White as a birch in the snow of a winter moon

The story is never told
There are white lips whisper alone
There are red lips whisper alone
In the cool of the old walls
In the white of the old walls
The red song is over