The Trapper’s Wife © Christopher Mark Jones 2013

She pulled right over and picked me up
Asked me Where you goin’ tonight?          
I said I might make it to Black Earth          
If the wind keeps blowin’ just right
           
She said That’s nice but I turn off
At the top of the next rise
If you want you can stay the night
There’s no need to act surprised

My house is a little worse for wear
There’s traps and snowshoes piled up everywhere
Used to have a man to share my bed
But it’s been seven long years now
That he’s been dead.

I said All right it’s gettin’ on dark
And the trucks don’t stop up here
I could use a bite to eat
And some Pabst Blue Ribbon beer

She said Don’t get happy
Your bed is a pile of skins
Last week’s stew is almost gone
And the moonshine is runnin’ thin

My head is a little worse for wear
There’s dusty memories tucked in everywhere
Used to have a man to share my bed
But it’s been seven long years now
That he’s been dead

We stopped in at the Texaco
She came out with the Pabst
Stacked it up on the muskrat hides
Between the gas cans in the back

She said Heat some water on the wood stove
You don’t smell that good
In the dark we didn’t talk much
We just did what we could

Morning come she drove me down to the highway
Dropped me at roadside
Said I’m Joline not that it matters
What matters is what’s inside

My heart is a little worse for wear
All these old love songs, tangled everywhere
Used to have a man to share my bed
Now there’s a new song playing
In my house, in my heart, in my head

There’s a new song playing
In my house, in my heart,  and in my head