Punkin' Pie
Words and Music by Anna Rundall
How time flies
Yet another cold Thanksgiving
Here on Skid Row in Seattle
On a street named Cardboard CourtOnce or twice
I can feel the pride still burning,
float away with every breath cloud
To those castles in the skyI used to be my mother's Punkin'
and my Daddy's Sweetie Pie
Had a ball, then had a baby
in what seems like overnight
I went from high to hooked to hooker
Made my bed and live to lie
Now I charge a hundred dollars for
a piece of Punkin' PieCars drive by
I'm at the mercy of the sidewalk
Every bite my daughter eats
comes from the finest trick in townHow I try
but the turkey and the trimmings
keep the fathers and the boyfriends
close to home, at least for nowI remember feeling grateful
for my family and friends
For the dinner on the table
For the prayer while holding hands
I used to think that love was sacred
and a marriage worth the fight
Now I sleep with men who pay me
While their women cry at nightShame and I
On our way to meals of kindness
From the saints who smile and tell you
that their God knows pain so wellStill it's nice
Sitting down to drink some coffee
Eat potatoes that were paid for
with the cash from ringing bellsSomeone whispers:" God is here"
But can I ask you why
the God of earth and heaven
would care
for Punkin' PieHow time flies.......
© 1999, Anna Rundall
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