That's for Falls | Americana with a Body Count — Sasperela Rue

A dark murder ballad tells a story of domestic violence, bitter medicine, and justice served sweet. Sung in the voice of Sasperela Rue. Songs by Elizabeth Ola Belle Fontaine. Every word written by hand — the grief is real. Listen on Spotify. ============================== THAT'S FOR FALLS Plumb late in the night Wade come by. “My belly’s hurtin’ powerful bad. Oh, Granny June, I don’t know why. Get me the strongest drop you had.” I knowed that youngun ’fore he drawed air. I fetched him squallin’ right from his maw. Now he’s sittin’ yonder in that chair. He can’t look me in the eye naw more. Last spring his Della come to call, Her arms black as a burnt-out wick. Said, “Granny, I just took a fall.” Fell three times since—a quare old trick. Child, ain’t nary a step in that house. I fetched you in this world, wiped your brow, Slick and a-squallin’, fresh and red. I know the roots that mend, and how And which’ll still a heart instead. I fetched you down in this dark holler— Now I'll brew you tea, then to bed. Done set the kettle on to brew. Reached for that black jar out’a sight, Three drops, then molasses, spoon by spoon. Sweet makes the bitter go down light. He drunk it down to the last drop. I learned him of his maw’s long night— She travailed hard. She right near stopped. I held her hand till he turned right. Hush now, son. Won’t hurt none by dawn. I fetched you in this world, wiped your brow, Slick and a-squallin’, fresh and red. I know the roots that mend, and how And which’ll still a heart instead. I fetched you down in this dark holler And I'll soon lay your body to bed. I laid him out Thursday, half past nine, In Sunday suit, a rough pine box. Town said, “His heart warn’t good, nor kind— But Lord, he looked strong as an ox.” Brought tater casserole to the wake. Them deviled eggs was mighty good. Della wore black; I fixed her some cake. Her legs stood steady, firm as wood. Funny thing. She ain’t took a fall since. Spring come round, and Della come walkin’, Down in the holler, lips drawn tight. She said, “There’s other girls still fallin’. Granny June, I’m gonna make it right.” My mammaw learned me long ago: For cuts, use these here dried nutgalls. That bark’s for sore and ailin’ throats. Child, that ol’ black jar—that’s for falls. Don’t fret, I’ll learn you how to know ‘em all. I fetched you in this world, wiped your brow, Slick and a-squallin’, fresh and red. I know the roots that mend, and how And which’ll still a heart instead. I fetched you down in this dark holler And we’ll soon lay your body to bed. Child, that ol’ black jar... that’s for falls. — These recordings involve generative AI. #folksong #murderballad #americana #singersongwriter