She longs for peace, it's her revenge
She's a stark-white Pale Horse Rider and hell's just around the bend
She's kids to raise, she got bills to feed
And her pride is a higher horse than some b** of a man upon a steed
The handle's rough, she works it smooth, hardened by the pace
The hands get tough and it transfers through before the lines can reach her face
She flies like a kite held at the other end
Tugging down on her cinnamon threads, she's shredding in the wind
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, no one to hold her tight, like she should be
Cinnamindy
h***se and sore, her scratchy voice saws through a song like a rusty cello
Now I lay me down to sleep, lights out, it's time to dream
Her days are fine, she makes everybody smile with her raspy laugh
The days are long but she blows it all off with a wink and a little sass
She flies like a kite held at the other end
Tugging down on her cinnamon threads, she's shredding in the wind
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, no one to hold her tight, like she should be
Cinnamindy
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, Mama just down the hall
She cries late at night, Mama curled up like a wrecking ball
She cries late at night, there's no one to hold her tight, like she should be
But by morning light, the cinnamon's on her cheeks
But by morning light, she's back to being Cinnamindy
She's a stark-white Pale Horse Rider and hell's just around the bend
She's kids to raise, she got bills to feed
And her pride is a higher horse than some b** of a man upon a steed
The handle's rough, she works it smooth, hardened by the pace
The hands get tough and it transfers through before the lines can reach her face
She flies like a kite held at the other end
Tugging down on her cinnamon threads, she's shredding in the wind
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, no one to hold her tight, like she should be
Cinnamindy
h***se and sore, her scratchy voice saws through a song like a rusty cello
Now I lay me down to sleep, lights out, it's time to dream
Her days are fine, she makes everybody smile with her raspy laugh
The days are long but she blows it all off with a wink and a little sass
She flies like a kite held at the other end
Tugging down on her cinnamon threads, she's shredding in the wind
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, no one to hold her tight, like she should be
Cinnamindy
But she reads the Bible, she believes the light
She thumbs through the pages til the good book smolders and ignites
She cries late at night, Mama just down the hall
She cries late at night, Mama curled up like a wrecking ball
She cries late at night, there's no one to hold her tight, like she should be
But by morning light, the cinnamon's on her cheeks
But by morning light, she's back to being Cinnamindy