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