Western White

she clouded suns
she wilted cotton
she was the daughter of murderers
her skin was snow
her grain was rotten
she had the devil inside of her

[chorus]
western white woman with a matchbook in her hand
owes me fifteen dollars for that firewater can

she met a man
his name was ryan
their daughter lived in a maple grove
her clothes are wet
her spirits risin'
but where they're goin' we'll never know

[chorus]