Intro
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Start up , ‘73, . . . Budweiser route . . . Miami down through the keys
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Flagler’s overseas highway was narrow and rough
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No weight on the wheels . . . or side mirrors on the truck
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She was born . . . in Cuba . . . just 90 miles away
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Where every day is songless . . . and every color gray
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She heard a place of freedom lie . . . just across the bay
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So she strapped herself to a steel drum boat . . . drifted away
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She landed at Bud & Mary’s . . . Isla Morada in the Keys
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She got a job cleaning fish . . . as they came in from the sea
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Fate would play matchmaker . . . when they crossed paths that day
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He met the Cuban girl . . . putting cases of beer away
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She knew a place of beauty . . . but in English couldn’t say to me
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But he knew she sought . . . the square called Mallory
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He said hang up your apron . . . tell Mary you’re coming with me
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And we’ll watch the sun set together . . . in that western key
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She ran ahead to the rail . . . the barrier to the sea
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As the sun tucked itself away, she fell to her knees
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She said a prayer to heaven . . . in words unknown to me
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But I knew two words among them . . . Jesus and Mallory
Outro
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For 9 years she rode beside me . . . up and down . . . these keys
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From Marathon to Big Pine . . . they stretched an end to me
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The seven mile bridge . . . was wide enough . . . that any now can cross
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So Mallory and I we bought a shack . . . where we pretend . . . we’re . . . lost