On a Saturday night all the girls run free
Singing, 'bury me not on the lone prairie'
But where do you go when you finish broken-hearted?
Back to the dust where you started
Jenny cut her teeth in a midwest shack
As a shantytown girl on the wrong end of the tracks
Her mama taught her everything she'd need to get along
And her Sunday School teacher taught her right and wrong
Raised to be respectable, but born too poor
It was all she'd ever known, but she figured there was more
When she came of age, Jenny made herself a vow
'I'm gonna get out, and I don't care how'
It appeared every autumn on the courthouse lawn
And the leaves never fell until the carnival was gone
Michael was a barker for an arcade ride
With a smooth-talk tongue and a wandering eye
'Get your tickets here for the Halls o'Mirrors maze
If you can't get out, I know a couple ways'
He caught Jenny's eye, but her thoughts looked down
All she wanted was a ticket going out of that town
Oh, how I wanna bury you
Bury you and run away
Done away
How I wanna bury your memory
Why don't you let me be?
Michael stole a kiss first, then he whispered at last
'You're a little old-fashioned, so forget about your past
These Bible-belt folks think living is a sin
So they all start dying from the day they're born again'
And there atop the ferris wheel, the colours were a blur
The morning said he loved her, but she wasn't really sure
He made her promise not to leave until he came to get her
She promised him, but she should have known better
On a train
Stowaway
Jesus loves you still and your mama wants you home
But, oh, the bridges burn
When you carry your shame and you think you can't return
When they finally found her body on a cold dog day
It was in a cattle car, buried in the hay
A note in the pocket of her calico dress
Said, 'I'm guilty as sin, but I can't confess.'
Once you know the truth, you can hide in on a shelf
But unless you bring it down, you can't live with yourself
In her right hand, Jenny held the Bible of her mother
Jenny had a pistol in the other
On a Saturday night all the girls run free
Singing, 'bury me not on the lone prairie'
But where do you go when you finish broken-hearted?
Back to the dust where you started
Written by Steve Taylor © 1984 Birdwing Music/Cherry Lane Music Publishing Co., Inc./C.A. Music (ASCAP)
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