Police Helicopter

Last night at midnight I sat on the front steps eating some pan mexicano and a police helicopter was making circles in the sky, shining the spotlight down a few neighborhoods away from mine, and I got inspired to write these lyrics and a simple Bill Withers-type blues melody to go with them:

The Ring
By Alexandra Weber Morales © 2005

Police helicopter’s buzzing
The searchlight’s on my man
This is not the life I was born for
I am leaving, yes I am

I have never been arrested
His record is far worse
It’s not that he’s done bad things
It just clings to him this curse

We visited his hometown
My mother came along for fun
She asked where are the rich folks
I said I didn’t marry one

He’s got so much potential
When the sun shines he’s so smart
If love is providential
The Lord above won’t let us part

Every day I ask the question
Every night I sing this song
Just like the old expression
What does not break me makes me strong

I don’t try to share my troubles
No one wants to know what’s wrong
Or they blame me for the devils
As if I help them to hang on

I won’t judge another woman
I won’t speculate or chat
This ring is like an omen
She who wears it wins at last

In the sparkle of the morning
’Neath the blooming sky of blue
My sweet baby child is crowing
We are three—only this is true