Mary Turner Mary Turner

Mary Turner, Mary Turner
Mary Hattie Graham
19 years old and pregnant

Hazel Turner, Hazel Turner
Murdered by a lynch mob
She declares his crime a crime
And running for her life

She is, she is captured, captured at Folsom Bridge
Gasoline and motor oil smeared on her clothes
She is hung up by her ankles from a tree
A match is struck and she is set ablaze

Mary Turner, Mary Turner while still burning
Mary Turner, Mary Turner while still alive
Split open with a knife

Unborn Child falls from her womb
From her womb onto the ground

Looking up, looking up
The first and only light it ever sees
The flames, the flames of its mother's burning, burning
Reaching out, reaching out
The first and only loving touch it receives
The falling ash of its mommy's hair on fire

The baby, baby cried in the dirt
Quieted, quieted by a boots heel
Mother and child, mother and child
999 more bullets from the crowd

Mary Turner, Mary Turner buried where they were murdered
A cigar stuffed in a whisky jug, a whisky jug to mark the grave
Fuck your guns, Fuck your wars
Fuck your truck, Fuck your flag