Janie kept a blue rock beside her bed,
Coz her mamma had warned her
Of red snakes that may visit at night.
Janie wore a red bandana on her head
Coz her daddy always told her
How wonderful she looked with it shining bright.
Janie met a junkie in a cheap theater
And they hit it off and stood one night
In a cheap motel, on a creaky li’l bed.
Janie wed a rich man in a deep blue sweater
A man with power and money and might,
Who outwards was charming and inwards was dead.
Janie on her death-bed, on a Christmas night,
Was touring her memories inside her head
Till the weather turned stormy and wetter.
Janie had stumbled, maybe through a wrong right,
Into the time in her childhood. She was on her bed
When the snake did visit and start to wet her,
Janie, with his hypnotizing gaze. He bred
A charming dread that did get her
To forget the blue stone that she’d kept for the fight.
Janie lay and wondered, on her death-bed,
Maybe life would be better,
If she’d not killed it that night.
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