She ran that path most every single day,
The salt air blowing through her hair so much a breeze would linger there,
Despite her finding refuge in a room.
Her mother laid her shoes out by the door,
And with each new morn she left them there,
Preferring that her feet were bare,
Won't compromise the grass between her toes.
Keep running girl, know what you want
Keep going girl, take what you want.
Her name was kept on every caller’s lips,
They whispered it with candles lit,
Folded hands and coffer gifts, but god would never tell her what to do,
But her loving gaze belonged to nane but one,
At the apiary merchant stand,
She watched her lover’s careful hands,
Scoop honey into waiting earthen jars
Keep running girl, know what you want,
Keep going girl, take what you want.
She made sure they needed honey every week,
Bowls were hid and jars were spilled,
A ruse so she could get them filled, to see those careful hands work once again.
Lashed together, hearts dismasted in the sea,
Each moment that they spent alone,
Inside their minds they built a home,
Where lips could meet away from damning eyes.
Keep running girl, know what you want
Keep going girl, take what you want.
Promised to a man of wealth and stock,
She felt her soul was chattel bound,
So courage grew behind her brow to love that woman with those careful hands.
But the steps they took to hide was not enough,
For the father of the man she’s bound,
Burst in a room where he had found,
Impassioned limbs entangled on the floor.
Keep running girl, know what you want.
Keep going girl, take what you want.
He screamed enraged as she sprang to her feet,
His calloused hands had found her neck and squeezed with murderous intent,
As her lover crawled behind him on the floor.
She clawed his face and fought to find a breath,
As those careful hands that made her sigh,
Unsheathed a knife strapped to his thigh,
Drove it ‘tween the ribs guarding his heart.
Keep running girl, know what you want.
Keep going girl, take what you want.
She ran that path most every single day,
The salt air blowing through her hair so much a breeze would linger there,
Despite her finding refuge in a room.
Her mother laid her shoes out by the door,
And with each new morn she left them there,
Preferring that her feet were bare,
Won't compromise the grass between her toes.
Born and raised near Ann Arbor, Ben Balmer is an Austin-based singer songwriter. Binding roots-y Americana with contemporary
twists, Ben has been influenced by a wide range of musicians, including Tom Waits, Fiona Apple, Taj Mahal, and Paul Butterfield. He has released two full-length albums, multiple EP’s, and will release his newest album, Honky-Tonk Macbeth, in the Fall of 2021....more
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