She drove a big ol' Lincoln with suicide doors   And a sewing machine in the back   And a light bulb that looked like an alligator egg   Was mounted up front on the hood      And she had an Easter bonnet that had been signed by Tennessee Ernie Ford   And she always had saw dust in her hair   And she cut two holes in the back of her dress   and she had these scapular wings   That were covered with feathers and electrical tape   And when she got good and drunk   She would sing about Elkheart, Indiana   Where the wind is strong and folks mind their own business      And she had at least a hundred old baseballs that she'd taken from kids   And she collected bones of all kinds   And she lived in a trailer under a bridge   And she made her own whiskey and gave cigarettes to kids   And she'd been struck by lightning seven or eight times   And she hated the mention of rain      And she made up her own language   And she wore rubber boots   And she could fix anything with string   And her lips were like cherries   And she was stronger than any man   And she smelled like gasoline and Rootbeer Fizz   And she put mud on a bee sting I got at the creek   And she gave me my very first kiss   And she gave me my very first kiss      Talking 'bout my little Kathleen   She's just a fine young thing   Someday she'll wear my ring   My little Kathleen