Sun and the world’s weight
hot and heavy on my back
Picking berries and pulling weeds
for minimum wage in cash
And every time I get pricked with that rasp,
I realize there’s work left to do
So much so that by noon,
them little lines of blood,
they’ve been drawing up the pictures of my thoughts
They’ve got art scrawled
all up and down my arms
They run just like sweat and red chalk
One looks like the Son of God,
Another’s in the shape of a guitar.
Biggest one, it’s a woman with child
I’m not sure what it all means,
but I’d like to think I believe
that
somewhere, something, or someone
is waiting for me
Margo Price's latest album tackles loss, failure, and freedom over lush pop, psychedelic country, and rock arrangements. Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 13, 2023