At sixteen, she quit high school, to make a fortune in the Promised Land.
She got a job behind the counter inb an all-night hamburger stand.
She wrote faithfully home to Mama, "Now, Mama, don't you worry none.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come."
It was late one Friday, he pulled in out of the dark.
He was tall and handsome. First she took his order, then she took his heart.
They bought a house up on the hillside where little feet would soon run.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come.
Oh, but love is fleeting. It's sad but it's true.
When your heart is bleeding, you don't want to hear it abused.
She packed her bags and went to Wyoming with a real estate man.
She drove down to Tampa in an Eldorado Grand.
She wrote back: "Dear Mama, life is just heaven in the sun.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come."
Well, she shot him dead on a sunny Florida road.
When they caught her, all she said was she couldn't stand the way he drove.
Back home, lonesome Johnny waits for his baby's parole.
He waits high on the hillside where the Wyoming rivers roll.
At his feet, and, almost grown now, a blue-eyed daughter and a handsome son.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come.
She got a job behind the counter inb an all-night hamburger stand.
She wrote faithfully home to Mama, "Now, Mama, don't you worry none.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come."
It was late one Friday, he pulled in out of the dark.
He was tall and handsome. First she took his order, then she took his heart.
They bought a house up on the hillside where little feet would soon run.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come.
Oh, but love is fleeting. It's sad but it's true.
When your heart is bleeding, you don't want to hear it abused.
She packed her bags and went to Wyoming with a real estate man.
She drove down to Tampa in an Eldorado Grand.
She wrote back: "Dear Mama, life is just heaven in the sun.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come."
Well, she shot him dead on a sunny Florida road.
When they caught her, all she said was she couldn't stand the way he drove.
Back home, lonesome Johnny waits for his baby's parole.
He waits high on the hillside where the Wyoming rivers roll.
At his feet, and, almost grown now, a blue-eyed daughter and a handsome son.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come.
From small things, Mama, big things one day come.