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She lived on a curve in the road An old tar paper shack On the south side of the town On the wrong side of the tracks Sometimes on the way into town We'd say, "Mother 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 The old blue car We used to race Our 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 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 a thunder cracked Mercy backed outside her windowsill I dreamed I was flying High above the trees, over the hills Looked down into the house of Mary A bare bulb's on Newspaper covered walls And Mary rising up above it all Next morning on the way into town We saw some skidmarks and followed them around Over the curve, through the fields into the house of Mary That what you fear the most Could meet you halfway That what 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, pass it a Take a bottle drink it down Pass it a, pass it a, pass it around, around Pass it a, pass it a, pass it around, 'round, 'round Oh yeah