she lived on curve in a road in old tar paper shack,on the southside of town on the wrong side of the tracks sometimes on the wayinto town we´d say mamma can stop and give her a ride sometimes we did,but her hands flew from her side wild eye,crazy Mary
down long dirt road past the parson´s place had a old blue car,we used to race little coutry store with a sinng tracked to the said no L.o.i.t.e.r.i.n.g allowed undernith that sing always congregated quiet and crowd
chorus
take a bottle,drink it down,pass it around 3X
on night thunder cracked,mercy backed outside her window still dreamed i was flying high above the trees over the hills looked into the house of mary unbracable newpaper covered walls and Mary risingup above it all...all
this moning on the way into town i saw some skid mrks and followed themaroud,over the curve throught the fields into the house of Mary that what you fear the most cold meet you halfway 2x