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lyrics

Skin as white as the cotton she sold,
And eyes as green as the money she made.
She torments my nights, but just why I know not,
For it wasn’t I who put her in her grave.
Cloaked in white haze, and dressed antebellum, she stands at the foot of my bed.
And my eyes start to cry and my spine starts to shivering,
I know she’s no dream and she’s not in my head.

Adelicia your children are waiting, was the money that good to keep you around.
One hundred years later your vanities hold you, do you suppose God’s gonna let you in now.
For you can’t have heaven and still keep you pennies, wings can’t be bought with your gold.
And even the Devil, he surely won’t take you, for it was the dollar for which your soul sold.

And out the door Adelicia is bounding,
I follow the spectre I see through her plan,
Where she is heading I know very plainly,
On top of my cupboard to an old metal can.
And I thrash and I scream as the fear leaves my body, the metal can slips from her hands.
And out pour the dimes, and out flow the dollars,
Out through my window it blows like the sands.

And that was the last night I saw Adelicia,
The foot of my bed she never more graced.
Why she came at all, it still is a mystery,
For my money was thin as her corseted waist.
Still something about the way that I braved her, and my little can was at stake,
It made me aware of the power of the dollar,
The lives it can fill and the souls it can break.

Adelicia your children are waiting, was the money that good to keep you around.
One hundred years later your vanities hold you, do you suppose God’s gonna let you in now.
Do you suppose God’s gonna let you in now?

credits

from Live with Mr Jones, released October 29, 2010

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Lindley Ruth and Her Tipsy String Band Nashville, Tennessee

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