High Beam

This woman
reached out to me
when I was least expecting it.
She told me she was hanged
by the Klu Klux Klan,
though I don't know how
or why
or where
or when,
and I certainly wasn't expectin'
to tell a story about that kind of thing,
but wanted to tread the path to Storyville,
New Orleans,
where the whores hung out
and the jazz played
loud on honky tonk pianos
that needed tuning.
But there she was
waiting for me on the road.
A woman called Pearl,
and she told me
to tell you
that although white women
shouldn't sing the blues
they often do.

Pearl's tale is one of woe.
Woe is me.
She hangs on the tree
the high beam
Jim Beam
watch what you say
when you're on your way.
The day's
gone astray
as we pass under
the beam
that hangs her high
from the neck
so that her feet
don't touch the ground
around
as the grass stops growing
and the blood starts flowing.

It was so easy to die
On high beam
as the people passed by
and Pearl's teeth
shone white
like a forest of stars
She screamed
"I didn't do nothin' wrong
but hold my head high"
and she sighed
and drew her last breath.

High beam
Jim Beam
Just a bottle or two
as her shoe
fell off her foot.
And I think,
I don't want her to die
with one shoe on
and one shoe off.
Hell, I don't want her to die at all,
but then,
if she hadn't
I wouldn't know to tell this story.

High Beam
Jim Beam
wash her clean
in the cool clear stream
of water that flows
beneath the bridge out there
beyond the field
where the cotton grows high.
Let her fly
back to her place
at God's side.
Where did she come from?
I don't know.
She was a voice
and a picture with her swinging
from the gallows,
tellin' me things
I had no right to know,
and even less to tell,
as a white woman
but that's what happens sometimes
when you let the story come through.