Each day is a sway between grift and grindstone.
Each day is a strange one-legged waltz, and they say
a woman's only as good as the worst man
that she lets steal her Sundays and her somedays.
Sit, and I'll offer you sweet tea and wisdom.
Or, go, and I'll show you a smile and the door.
A woman is only as good as the shine
on her floor. I've scrubbed all my footprints away.