Sharper Than Sunday

There's a knife in the drawer by the oven Belonged to my mama before me She used it for forty Thanksgivings I used it the night I got free

He came at me, he came at me screamin' I'd left the green beans on the stove I reached for the drawer, I reached for the handle And I found the only thing I owned

Sharper than Sunday, duller than a prayer That old kitchen knife was the only help there He fell on the linoleum, he fell on his lies And I stood above him with my mama's eyes Sharper than Sunday, colder than sin That's the night my real life began

Sheriff came, said "Ma'am, self-defense I won't be writin' you up" But the neighbors still whisper When I walk past their cups I didn't want him dead, I wanted him gone I wanted him stopped, not buried at dawn But the knife was sharper than Sunday And sometimes the only answer is one

Mama used to bless the knife Before she'd cut the bread Said "Lord, let this cut clean And let it only cut what's dead" I think she knew somehow That I'd need it one cold night And she made sure the blade was sharp And she made sure I'd know how to fight

Sharper than Sunday, sharper than shame Mama's knife knew what to do when I forgot my name He fell on the linoleum, the floor was red Now I live alone with the knife and the dead Sharper than Sunday, I'm still alive That's all the sermon a woman needs to survive Sharper than Sunday, I'm still alive

Find this song on YouTube