FOLKLORE Verse 1 By now they’ve got stories about me. They swear the river changed course. They swear the crows all knew my name. Funny how a woman becomes a warning the moment she stops behaving well. So they stitched black ribbons to my shadow, hung my name above the door, and every time I left a room the story grew a little more. ⸻ Pre-Chorus Let them talk. Let them build their little myths. Every legend begins where someone’s truth becomes someone else’s story. ⸻ Chorus Spin me into folklore. Every village needs a witch. Every fire needs a woman to blame. A wolf disguised as a lullaby, where they couldn’t bury their shame. Spin me into folklore. I am every woman they feared— not because I broke the world, because I stayed when it disappeared. Spin me into folklore… Folklore. ⸻ Verse 2 I know women turned into warnings. Their names passed down like weather. Mothers lowered their voices. Fathers said nothing. One bad choice becomes a headline. One goodbye becomes a crime. One boundary becomes cruelty if you draw it at the wrong time. The ocean never asks forgiveness. The moon never explains her scars. Yet somehow women spend their whole lives translating survival into apologies. ⸻ Pre-Chorus Let them talk. Let them build their little myths. Every legend begins where someone’s truth becomes someone else’s story. ⸻ Chorus Spin me into folklore. Every village needs a witch. Every fire needs a woman to blame. A wolf disguised as a lullaby, where they couldn’t bury their shame. Spin me into folklore. I am every woman they feared— not because I broke the world, because I stayed when it disappeared. Spin me into folklore… Folklore. ⸻ Bridge Somewhere a girl is swallowing herself because everyone applauds when she’s small. Somewhere another girl is growing teeth. They call it becoming difficult. One day they’ll call her cold. One day they’ll call her dangerous. One day they’ll call her impossible. One day they’ll call her— Folklore. ⸻ Final Chorus Spin me into folklore. Every village needs a witch. Every fire needs a woman to blame. A wolf disguised as a lullaby, where they couldn’t bury their shame. Spin me into folklore. I am every woman they feared— not because I broke the world, because I stayed when it disappeared. Every woman who survives a fire teaches the trees her name. Spin me into folklore… Folklore. ⸻ Outro By now they’ve got stories about me. Maybe that’s all folklore ever was— A woman surviving long enough for strangers to forget she was real.
