Maine

I drove up through Maine
On the way to Montreal
The signs drove me insane
It was wild to hear that call
I listened to Penderecki
And Teddy Pendergrass
Nothing really seemed to rhyme
When I filled it up with gas

I picked up a hitchhiker
With a star stuck to her face
No-one seemed to like her
She took up too much space
So we stopped in Kennebunkport
And asked her to step out
Instead she grabbed the steering wheel
And we all began to shout

Things like this only happen in Maine
They never happen in Fargo, North Dakota
There's an angry woman with a voodoo doll
Demanding that I let her drive the Toyota

She put a curse on the lady in the back seat
When she tried to steal the mojo from her hand
The lady chirped like a parakeet
And her voice resembled paper made from sand

I jumped out of the car and ran inside
The back door of the local hardware store
They asked if I had given a friendly ride
To a witch who'd arrived from Baltimore

Things like this only happen in Maine
They never happen in Saint Cloud, Minnesota
There's an angry woman who made it very plain
That she'd be leaving with my old Toyota

So I stayed in Maine and sought myself employment
Two years later, I was elected mayor
I built a statue of myself near the on-ramp
And repaired the holes in the ozone layer

One morning, I awoke to find a note
Stapled to the dashboard of my neck
The witch apologized for stealing my old car
And asked if she could send me a check

Things like this only happen in Maine
Never in Vero Beach or Sarasota
An angry woman struck out through the rain
Delivering the keys to my old Toyota