Slave/dancing Swan Lake/in Elvis' b by Lady Blue
Slave/dancing Swan Lake/in Elvis' b by Lady Blue
Blender 49
12/07/97
Lady Blue Mist/rca
words: slave / dancing Swan Lake / in Elvis bathroom
Growing up in the back wood hills of Kentucky, she always knew she was
different, different from those around her, at least. For the hills of Kentucky was
not a likely breeding ground for what her mother had always called her far-
fetched fantasies. Throughout the years she kept her dreams to herself,
undaunted by the pessimistic views of her mother, her brothers, her sister. She
knew that if she allowed them a glimpse of her aspirations, shed be the subject
of their teasing, their ridicule, and, when the time came, they would try to stop
her. But she would not be stopped, shed do it on her own and allow no one to
stand in her way.
For years, she had discreetly reveled in the magic she found in the tiny
theater in town. Town, if you could call it that, consisted of one paved street,
the dilapidated diner on the corner, the sheriffs office, the feed store, and the
dime store that made Woolworths look like Neiman Marcus. Of course, the
only shows at the local theater could be called classics by now, but then she
had no way of knowing that. She only knew for sure that she was getting out,
that she would not become a slave to the land, nor to some good ole boy who
wanted her only to cook his meals, wash his socks and bear his young-uns.
Nope, she had dreams that would not be cast aside
She might not have the sort of face youd find on the cover of some fancy
ladys magazine, and youll probably never see her in a big-screen movie or
dancing Swan Lake, but, if nothing else, she could sing. Her voice was as sweet
as a new borns first cry and with the determination of a lifetime of deprivation,
her eight-teenth birthday found her standing here in the heart of Memphis. It might
not be Nashville, and it might not be Hollywood, but it was as far as her limited
funds would get her right now and it was a start. All she really wanted was a
chance. But, first things first, she needed a place to stay and a job to support
herself. In a city this size, surely there was something for her. Growing up on the
farm she certainly wasnt a stranger to hard work, hell, shed wait tables or scrub
the toilet in Elvis bathroom if she had to. The only thing that shed not do, for
sure, was allow her dream to die without giving it a chance.