She longs for peace, it’s her revenge
She’s a stark-white, pale-horse, rider-in-Hell’s just around the bend
She’s kids to raise, she got bills to feed,
And her pride is a higher horse than some bum of a man upon a steed
The handle’s rough, she works it smooth,
Hardened by the pace
The hands get tough and it transfers through before the lines can reach her face
She flies like a kite, Hell at the other end
Tuggin’ down on a cinnamon thread, she’s shreddin’ in the wind
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages ‘til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, no one to hold her tight like she should be
Cinnamindy
Hoarse and sore her scratchy voice soars through her song like a rusty cello
Now I lay me down to sleep, lights out, it’s time to dream
And days you’ll find she make everybody smile with a last good laugh
The days are long, but she blows it all off with a wink and a little sass
She flies like a kite, Hell at the other end
Tuggin’ down on her cinnamon thread, dreams shreddin’ in the wind
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages ‘til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, no one to hold her tight like she should be
Cinnamindy
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light,
She thumbs through the pages ‘til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, Mama just down the hall,
She cries late at night, Mama curled up like a wrecking ball,
She cries late at night, there’s no one to hold her tight like she should be
But by morning light the cinnamon’s on her cheeks
But by morning light she’s back to being Cinnamindy
Thanks to Jessica H. for the lyrics.
