Mistress of the Salmon Salt (Quicklime Girl)

In the garden district

Where the plants grow strong and tall

Behind the bush there lurks a girl

Who makes them strong and tall

The villagers call her

Quicklime girl behind her back

Quicklime girl behind the bush

Quicklime girl

She's the mistress of the salmon salt

Quicklime girl

Quicklime girl

Quicklime girl

In the fall when plants return

By harvest time she knows the score

Ripe and ready to the eye

Yet rotten somehow to the core

And they call her

Quicklime girl behind her back

Quicklime girl behind the bush

Quicklime girl

She's the mistress of the salmon salt

Quicklime girl

Quicklime girl

Quicklime girl

A harvest of life a harvest of death

One body of life one body of death

And when you've gone and choked to death

With laughter and a little step

I'll prepare the quicklime, friend

For your ripe and ready grave

For your ripe and ready grave

It's springtime now and cares subside

And the plannings almost done

And fertile graves it seems exist

Within a mile of that juke joint

Where Coast Guard crews still take their leave

Quite listless in the sun

And the Quicklime girl still plies her trade

Reduction of the many from the one

And they call her

Quicklime girl behind her back

Quicklime girl behind the bush

Quicklime girl

Well she's the mistress of the salmon salt

Quicklime girl

Quicklime girl they call her

Quicklime girl

A harvest of life a harvest of death

Resumes its course each day

It comes as if by schedule

A harvest of limbs, of arms and of legs

The toes that crawl

The knees that jerk

The necks like swans that seem to turn

As if inclined to gasp or pray