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