Grant's Kitty Wells post this morning made me think of another proto feminist in my book: Nancy Sinatra. My band mate turned me on to this song a few years ago—the lyrics are a flip from some of the more traditional '60s-style lady lyrics that often included rhyming the words "crying" with "dying" or "waiting" with "hating" when describing tales of male-induced misery. Sinatra takes less bullshit, singing that if you don't show up on time, she's outta there, off on her own to prowl in the night.
You came by at two o'clock, you shoulda been by at ten / I said bye at three o'clock and I ain't coming back again / How does that mess your mind? Whoa! How does that grab you, darlin'? This girl is leavin' you behind. / When the sun goes down and the moon comes up I'm gonna go out and prowl..Oh ya! / Don't come lookin' for your pussy cat, cause I won't be here no how! Whoa! / How does that grab you darlin'?
Forgive the clunky French in the beginning, and the fact that she's sitting in a chair the entire time for some reason.