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