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