Every word of this one is true except the bayou. Some songs scratch the surface; this one digs to the root. Mismatched Shoes is a country blues G-funk testimony about the strange girl with mismatched shoes, born into violence, abuse, and addictions, the same generational curses, the same family traditions. She learned to keep secrets before she learned how to read, carried grown folks' weight on little-girl knees, and nobody checked her shoes, never even taught her how to tie, while the church and teachers turned their heads and never bothered to ask why. Thrown to the wolves as the scapegoat, born legally blind, a lost cause at first glance. But the bridge flips the whole story with the truth they never saw coming: throwing her to the wolves was the flaw in their plan, because when the pack circled close, they smelled one of their own. Divinely marked from birth, she was never alone. Gritty half-rapped verses over a deep rolling G-funk bounce, greasy slide guitar, and swampy organ erupt into a massive belted blues chorus asking the only question that matters: why run with the wolves when you can howl at the moon instead? Why bow at their table when you were born with the crown on your head? She learned to win with the deck stacked, left 'em reshuffling, and she ain't lookin' back. Written by Pamela Arsena. Pamela Divine on the Pamela Arsena label.
There once lived a girl out in the bayou She was the strange one with mismatched shoes Born into violence, abuse and addictions Same generational curses, the same family traditions She learned to keep secrets 'fore she learned how to read Carried grown folks' weight on little-girl knees Nobody checked her shoes, never even taught her how to tie The church and teachers turned their heads and never bothered to ask why Why run with the wolves when you can howl at the moon instead? Why bow at their table when you were born with the crown on your head? She learned to win even when the deck was stacked She left 'em reshuffling, and she ain't lookin' back Thrown to the wolves, she never said a peep Always the scapegoat, now the black sheep Well you'd think the girl never stood a chance Born legally blind, a lost cause at first glance But there's something 'bout a girl with mismatched shoes you must understand Throwing her to wolves was the flaw in their plan 'Cause when the pack circled close, they smelled one of their own Divinely marked from birth, she was never alone Why run with the wolves when you can howl at the moon instead? Why bow at their table when you were born with the crown on your head? She learned to win even when the deck was stacked She left 'em reshuffling, and she ain't lookin' back Why run with the wolves when you can howl at the moon instead? Why bow at their table when you were born with the crown on your head? She learned to win even when the deck was stacked She left 'em reshuffling, and she ain't lookin' BACK She ain't lookin' back... She ain't lookin' back
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