What's the matter here?
You'll never repair
The lady's cursed with insight
You'll never fix her, with a cold stare
She's all broken inside
She made a good go, like a weeping willow
Her limbs clung to the ground
She closed the window, and made a pillow
And lay her head down
And as her babies slept, she took a long deep breath
Now they're zipping her up in a bag
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
And the Cadillac's waiting to take her away
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
Another head cold, another spirit old
Mmmm, February
Her hair was dirty, and she was 30 in 1963
And while her babies slept she took a long deep breath
And they're zipping her up in a bag
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
The Cadillac's waiting to take her away
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
And drag, and drag, and drag