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
