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