She calls you from a room somewhere in the city   Hear the sound of the ground through the static and pity   There's a vision of you in a bath of red water   sitting on her tongue like a silver dollar      And between your ears all her words are just litter   The alphabet is torn and your spit is getting bitter   You could make a mistake and judge her falsely   Your bed was just a hole where she couldn't sleep honestly      Her hair was the color of the corn where you were born   You could hear her voice when the north wind blew   and her skin held the sound of the rain on the pane   but she carried a knife for to cut you loose   She carried a knife for to cut you loose      You watch the leaves shiver underneath a black sky   Hold the moon in contempt for shedding any light   And you hunt the devil down and try to sell your soul   but if you want your woman back you'll have to knock her out cold      You've got a ring around your finger to prove that she was here   A white dress in the attic hanging by the rafter   A ghost in your kitchen with flowers in her hair   and eyes the color of alabaster      Her hair was the color of the corn where you were born   You could hear her voice when the north wind blew   and her skin was the same as the rain on the pane   but she carried a knife for to cut you loose   She carried a knife for to cut you loose