she lived on a curve in the road in an old tar paper shack
on the south side of town on the wrong side of the tracks
sometimes on the way into town we say
mama can we stop and give her a ride
sometimes we did but her hands flew from her side
wild eyed...crazy...Mary
down a long dirt road past the Parson's place
their old blue car we used to race
a little country store, with a sign tacked to the side
said no L-O-I-T-E-R-I-N-G allowed
underneath that sign always congregated quite a crowd
take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around, pass it a
take a bottle, drink it down, pass it a, pass it a, pass it around
one night the thunder cracked, mercy backed outside her windowsill
dreamed I was flying high, above the trees, over the hills
looked down into the house of Mary
somethings gone???, newspaper covered walls
and Mary rising up, above it all
ah...... ah......
next morning on the way into town
we saw some skid marks and followed them around
over the curb, through the fields, into the house of Mary
that what you fear the most will meet you half way
that what you fear the most will meet you half way
take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around, pass it a
take a bottle, drink it down, pass it a, pass it a, pass it around
