Crazy Mary

She lived on the curve of 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'd say 'Mama, can we stop and give her a ride?' Sometimes we did, but she shook her head and her hands flew from her side Wild eyed, crazy Mary Down a long dirt road Past the parson's place An old blue car We used to race 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 Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around One night thunder cracked mercy backed outside my windowsill Dreamed I was flying high above the trees, over the hills Looked down into the house of Mary Bare bulb hung there, newspaper-covered walls And Mary rising up above it all Next morning on the way into town We saw some skid marks, and followed them around Over the curve, through the fields Into the house of Mary That which you fear the most, could meet you halfway That which you fear the most, could meet you halfway Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around Drink it down, pass it around Round, round, round, round Where it stops nobody knows Nobody knows