Rita

She doesn't want the cradle, says doesn't care a hoot, whispers for me to stay, better this than bitter need, if what she states is true, not worried about being free, somewhere down the highway, sun light dances her tune, then she calls for rain, she draws her fire makes peace, there's no night time gloom, at what she wants to be, her long twang and gait, gives everything its due, she knows the Atlantic trade, sometimes we have to pray, when she bends to kiss you, manner easy in her own way, her love is brand new.