| Far up in the foothills |
| Deep in Tennessee |
| I found her crumpled cabin |
| Where the wind can only breathe |
| I knocked upon the oaken door |
| And shuddered at my gloom |
| For scarcely had the night begun |
| When the clouds did shroud the moon |
| Her haggled face came forward |
| As whispered through the night |
| She asked if I would lead her |
| For she’d long since lost her eyes |
| She sat me down beside the fire |
| It’s slowly dying glow |
| And outside tho the wind did scream |
| The cabin only moaned |
| And then she asked me questions |
| Of my parents and my place |
| To my reply I’d never known |
| A smile did crack the face |
| You see she said your mother died |
| As you did leave the womb |
| But left inside a twin did lie |
| ___? At his tomb |
| And lo just then the cabin door went crashing on it’s hinge |
| And just outside a women stood her hair like blackened fringe |
| Them that haunt, they see in me, she screamed and turned to run |
| Through the wind I heard her say the dead can bear no sons |
| Then the hag did stand again |
| She hobbled on her cane |
| Clutching at the knarled door she called my mothers name |
| Melinda |
| Melinda |
| Melinda |
| Melinda |
| Melinda |
| Melinda |
| Melinda |