Blue dress, simple but beautiful,
down to the tips of her soft shoes.
Wide brimmed hat, shaded eyes,
a pretty outfit she did not once choose.
The night is wet, just after a late rain,
and it’s so still as Sunday Morning comes.
She hears his car coming up the road,
the bass thumping like timpani drums.
She could run to Alberta prairies with him,
to the place he’s made for them to start anew.
A place quiet, away from a sleeping world,
with pretty flowers sparkling with spring dew.
She could stay in this town that feels is taking
all that she cherished, all that the angels command.
But does this man love her, or is she a dream?
Chose this dress; what else will he always demand?
His car is coming, too fast, too loud, and she sighs.
Will he grow bored, will her grow mean, up in the plains?
The world is the world, wherever you runaway to,
same heartache and tears and emotional strains.
She’ll have to choose, stay or go, run or fight,
go with this man, or find another way to be alive.
The blades of fate cut you skin whichever way you go,
but there must be a way in this darkness to thrive.