Mary, by herself, was wanderin' along, Until a lonesome tree she came upon. Far up it's arm grew something strange; She stared into the glow of a white stone. Mary reached and took it, running back home. At the edge of town she rested, catching her breath. She said, I'll burry my stone here, hide it from the rest. But in the night, the stone did grow, Into a mountain so high Its summit cut a wound in the watery skies. The Mayor of the town said the mountain must go, For he was jealous of its height and its long shadows. He shook and swore, and stirred a storm, And ordered all to take this mountain down! They chipped apart each stone, buried them in the ground. Who? Who? Who's hiding in your heat? Who's hiding in your heat? Who's hiding in your heat? When morning came they stood there up in the clouds. As the Mayor left his house there came a terrible shout. For every stone was standing tall, Beneath them rose a white mountain range. Wrestling still his heart, Fear blew out his flame. Mary stood in wonder at how the world had changed.