Andrew Calhoun - Folklore

Folklore

My love, she's a blooming lady
She's a king and queen of men
She's a green and purple lady
She's got willing slaves and then
She's got plenty of pain and trials
She's got plenty of time to spend
She's got fifty women in waiting
She's got fools and dreams to mend

My love, she's a false young lady
See her in her wedding gown
Set me up just to betray me
Left my secret songs around
She's got pills to make her happy
She's got pills to bring her down
Lost her heart to her own body
Fears it never will be found

My love, she's a virtuous lady
My love, she's a virgin queen
Promised me her wholesome body
Promises to keep me clean;
There's here boat come up the river
Empty boat, where can she be?
She's gone fishing in the water,
Drowned herself to set you free

Now my life's an empty vessel
Now my life's a closing door
I keep her dog, I hear her whistle
Things I never could ignore
I keep her house and her long garden
A monument your children for
My heart is buried in her stockings
My soul is sold into folklore