MINNIE PEARL
On the first day I got a hold, my skin was white and young
Took a bag from my father's room, took the shirt he'd had on
I strode into the morning sun, the wind bit my face
Heading towards a chapel town and the Pearl family place
But the doors they were locked, they kept themselves inside
The next day, I came around, screaming in my head
She'd been gone for over a year, or at least that's what her mother said
I tried to piece together where she'd been and if she'd lost
Her delicate face, perfect skin, wide eyes and the family cross
Well the church door it stood open, but I had other things on my mind
My girl
Someone's going to pay for my girl
Her mother she told a story, of a fight in a bar
Apparently in my absence, well she'd spread herself afar
I could feel my flower wilting, and an ache grew inside
I aged about twenty years, and my fists grew strong and wild
And I left a bloody mess there, drove a car through the door
But then by chance I stumbled on her, Minnie Pearl on a beach
She was sat a bathed in gold, and her hair a silver bleach
The shotgun in my hand, felt about three times its size
But I thought about what I'd heard, and put the shotgun to my eye
I aimed at her St Christopher, but I saw me and smiled, and smiled, and smiled, and smiled
Well I walked a little closer, using my gun as a crook
She said 'You're not looking all that well'
I said 'It's not about the way I look
But how come my face is withered, and you, you look so fine?'
'Quite a few things have passed,' she said, putting her hand into mine
'
'And you, you're wearing different things, and you don't seem to mind'
But I'm still in a single bed and there's nothing left to be done
She decided she could walk away, and well me, I've been drinking some
All the years I'd planned, they slipped through my palm
I was turning grey, feeling old, she said I'd lost my charm
And how come I weep so much and there's revenge on my mind
My girl
Someone's going to pay for my girl
My girl, my girl
One the last day she came back I was there on my stool
I could barely string two words together, dealt my hand across the room
She'd found a young gypsy boy, with the air on his mind
Travelling from town to town, it suited her just fine
And her face was still delicate, still delicate, so delicate, so delicate and fine
