The Breeze knocked the hat from my head
But the breeze was warm
and the plants were not yet dead.
I drank in the evening with the men
down the street
I sang for them
And they threw down their feet
To the rhythm of my strings.
"Be a good girl," they would say
As I left late at night.
I would grab my coat
And say "I just might."
These are strange days
For a woman like me
I never knew what the men meant
But I still tried to believe.
My dad taught me
to fight
and to stand with thin legs.
My mother taught me
to be kind
And push hateful thoughts
to the back of my mind
She taught me to start a fire
Of my own
In a soul so cold and strong.
To melt in the hearts of others
And to always push on.