Arc

She lived on an old country road

in the bad part of town

but the people that knew of her

never knew her to frown.

From time to time she’d wander

from field and back to home

and people often wondered

about the little girl named Joan.

And with them she wondered

about the secrets of the world

and she made plans to start out

and to make those mysteries unfurl.

But she got shot down in Cleveland

and left to rot in Amsterdam.

She burned in Oklahoma

and lynched in ole Luisian’.

And the people often wonder

will she ever rise again, this little girl named Joan.

She hid out in the plains of the west

far from where she was known.

She kept to herself on the back end

of an old and winding country road.

From time to time she’d wander

from field and back to home

and people often wondered

about the old woman they called Joan.

They’ve written songs about her,

one’s she’s never heard,

and in them they all wonder

about the secrets of this Joan.

She was painted in New York

and erected in St. Paul.

She inspired a drunken poet

on the banks of South Bend Wichita.

And the people often wonder

will she ever rise again,

this woman they called Joan.