She sits in the middle of a country barn.
Just clouds come and go.
She weaves a shawl, she weaves a yarn,
Singing only of what the lonely know.

And after dark, when all’s at peace,
She turns and throws the hay around
‘Cause she’s a little fire *******
Nailed to the ground.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

A ***** white dress won’t keep her warm.
And feet won’t keep her standing.
Out in the world, all hurried with harm,
She’s tired of all commanding.

A crack in the roof, the rain comes through,
She drinks and laughs at thunder.
Her song will never be heard by you,
With the spell her words are under.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

A day will dawn and out she’ll get
To money fame and wonder.
Her breathing soul slips every net
But her body heaves with hunger.

And into the arms of one blind man
She gives her only child
Who’ll grow to find a promise land
Where her mother wept in the wild.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.