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
