It was late in the morning of November,
|
She was loading up the wagon in the rain.
|
Said she'd be back in the morning,
|
But she never came through here again.
|
|
I'd see her in the market,
|
She never had much to spend,
|
These days the market's an old parking lot
|
And she never came through here again.
|
|
Maxine, Maxine, Maxine, Maxine
|
|
Time plays tricks on your memory,
|
It's been a long weekend,
|
She said she'd be back here by Monday,
|
But never came through here again.
|
|
Some say a saucer landed,
|
And someone took her in,
|
They found her blue serape on the ground
|
And she never came through here again.
|
|
Maxine, Maxine, Maxine, Maxine.
|
|
I bought a tabloid paper,
|
She was rumored to be in,
|
Was a photo of a woman on a llama,
|
But she never came through here again.
|
|
And if you should see her,
|
She may be old by then,
|
Tell her that I miss her and you can ask her when
|
She's ever coming through here again.
|
|
Maxine, Maxine, Maxine, Maxine.
|
|
-----------------
|
Maxine
|
| Traveling Wilburys |
