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 the 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
From her womb onto the ground

Looking up the first and only light it ever sees
The flames, the flame of its mother's burning, burning
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 boot's 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 whiskey jug
A whiskey jug to mark the grave

Fuck your guns
Fuck your war
Fuck your truck
Fuck your flag