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