Christy Moore's Beeswing

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merigold

Merigold (sometimes misspelled as Marigold or Merrigold) is a town in Bolivar County, Mississippi, United States. Per the 2020 census, the population was 379. more »

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I was eighteen when I came to town
They called it the summer of love
Burning babies burning flags
The hawks against the doves

I got a job at the steaming
Way down on Caltrim Street
Where I fell in love with a laundry girl
Working next to me

Brown hair zigzagged around her face
A look of half surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights
There was animal in her eyes

She said to me "can't you see?
I'm not the factory kind
And if you don't take me out of here
I'll lose my mind"

She was a rare thing
Fine as a beeswing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child
She was running wild
She said "so long as there's no price on love I'll stay
You wouldn't want me any other way"

We busked around the market towns
Fruit picking down in Kent
We could tinker pots and pans and knives wherever we went

We camped on down the Gower
The work was mighty good
She wouldn't wait for the harvest and
I thought we should

I said why don't we settle down
Get a few acres dug
With a fire burning in the hearth
And babies on the rug

She said "my love how foolish
That surely sounds like hell
You may be lord of half the world
You'll not own me as well"

She was a rare thing
Fine as a beeswing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child
She was running wild
She said "so long as there's no price on love I'll stay
You wouldn't want me any other way"

We were drinking more in those days
Our tempers reached a pitch
Like a fool I let her run away
When she got the rambling itch

Last I heard she's sleeping rough
Back on the Derby beach
With a bottle of White Horse in her pocket
A wolfhound at her feet

They say she once got married
To a man named Rominy Brown
But even a gypsy caravan was too much like settling down

They say her rose has faded
Bad weather and hard booze
But maybe that's the price you pay for the chains you refuse

She was a rare thing
Fine as a beeswing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child
She was running wild
She said "so long as there's no price on love I'll stay
You wouldn't want me any other way"

She was a rare thing
Fine as a beeswing
And I miss her more than words could ever say
If I could just taste
All of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
I wouldn't want her any other way

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