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You rollin'?
It was hot, a hundred in the shade
When Mary got a note from this guy named Gabe
She don't remember gettin' pregnant, but she did
And by all accounts, she churned out one heck of a kid
But walkin' home from church one day, he just up and disappeared
Maybe he went to find Santa or maybe he went to get beer
He was just twelve years old, this miracle she carried
It was all so confusin', she wasn't even married
So she fled south to Elizabeth, her eldest cousin
Who, despite her old age, also had one in the oven
And in a duplex with a busted cement knob
Well, Chattanooga was as good as home
That's in Tennessee
There's Barbie lovers and firecrackers and train trackers
And Coca-Cola makers and insurance takers
And a lotta hot preachers
Sarah bought the brownies, Sean bought rosé
They almost booked a beach trip, but they didn't have a way
They baked biscuits at daylight for whoever might stop by
But they didn't get a lotta callers at the corner of Doodah
Sweet tea was flowin' and so were the tears
As Mary lived out her submissin' years
Not really free and sure not a boss
Just mostly lonely and mostly lost
Whatever Jesus was and whatever God had in mind
She hoped her boy was out there somewhere havin' a good time
'Cause chance just seems to fall out of the sky
And that's if you're lucky and the weather is dry
Lots of letters from mama came full of worry and I-told-yas
She curled up on the couch and watched Steel Magnolias
She baked a cake and baked a ham
She opened an account on Instagram
'Cause that's what you did back then
Mary was a good ol' gal
She didn't deserve this shit
She wrote her lines out one at a time
And she didn't complain one bit
She saw Shenae cover Loretta on Saturday Night Live
Like every good virgin does
But she spent most of her time just sittin' around and wonderin'
Where in the hell Jesus was
Sarah bought the brownies, Sean bought rosé
They almost booked a beach trip, but they didn't have a way
They baked biscuits at daylight for whoever might stop by
But they didn't get a lotta callers at the corner of Doodah
Well, time went by like molasses
So she signed up for some classes
But it seemed there were no real answers
Just a lot of fast food and raunchy dancers
And things everywhere were the worst kind of wild
And she knew in her gut they were comin' for her child
With bumpers and thumpers and guns a-blazin'
Ol' Jesus was in for some gnarly hazin'
Frat boy hazin', that is, the worst kind
She thought, "Oh my God, what have I done?
He's a bottle of milk and all the love inside him is mine
They gon' kill my baby, they don't like him none"
So she cut off all her hair, she thought she might could get there
If they would just mistake her for a man
It looked kinda mod, it probably wouldn't please God
But she had to have some kind of plan
Turns out there are no fish at the end of a lightning rod
And the worst thing you can grow up to be is the son of God
And I'm not sure there's anything anybody can do
When people will kill you even when there's nothin' wrong with you
So come and gather 'round me, friends
All my contemporary peers
And I'll tell you all the story of Mary
The submissin' years
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