Mario Y Maria
- Butch Hancock
Key: E E ·
Orig: E ·
Capo:
·
Time: 4/4 ·
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Intro
E/G# E/F# E
E/G# E/F# E
Verse 1
E
Mario was a perfect stranger
A
Even in the face of danger
E B7
Nobody knew if he’d hang around or turn around and run
E
From Heaven to the other side of Hades
A
He was attractive to the ladies
E B7 E
Some said he was an angel and some said he was the Devil’s son
A
But if there was a lock on swift salvation
E
Mario picked the combination
B7 A B7
Headed for higher ground with real gold in his heart
E
And he left a trail no one could trace
A
And he told half-truths no one could face
E B7 E
Deep in the river of his soul, the time had come to part
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E
There are those who never come home
Verse 2
E
Maria was the lonely one
A
And Mario was the only one
E B7
Who ever meant anything more to her than a fast “how do you do?”
E
With a roof over her prayerful head
A
And a gun under her feather bed
E B7 E
She had nightmares every day, and all of them came true
A
But changing time and different places
E
She found friends and fresher faces
B7 A B7
If she had a memory, she’d locked it in her heart
E
Accusations, loaded questions
A
Empty thoughts and a few confessions
E B7 E
Yesterday’s the finish and tomorrow is the start
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E
There are those who never come home
Verse 3
E
Angeline carved wooden dreams
A
An artist of the world it seems
E B7
A chisel cut her finger off, the one that wore the ring
E
And the doctor swore he heard her say
A
“It never fit me anyway
E B7 E
I would have sold it yesterday, but it wasn’t worth a thing”
A
Well the missing finger changed her style
E
And the missing ring just made her smile
B7 A B7
She carved a spitting image of Maria rubbing her eye
E
And around that statue’s neck of pine
A
On a yellow necklace made of twine
E B7 E
She hung that little worthless ring and nobody asked her why
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E
There are those who never come home
Verse 4
E
At Maria’s likeness, hearts would rupture
A
All throughout the world of sculpture
E B7
The well-to-do laid money down to stand around and stare
E
But on a locked up Sunday night
A
That statue disappeared from sight
E B7 E
And it must have been a masterpiece, ‘cause it vanished in thin air
A
Angeline committed suicide
E
Some call it sad, some call it pride
B7 A B7
Some joker said, “it could have been worse, she could’ve cut off her ear”
E
But the art world faced another fact
A
For her next-to-last artistic act
E B7 E
Was a spitting image of Mario wiping away a tear
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E
There are those who never come home
Verse 5
E
The gravedigger wiped away the sweat
A
His hands were dry, but his face was wet
E B7
And the ladies watching him wanted to get their hands on that man
E
But somebody else had a closer shave
A
Carving on the cross, built for the grave
E B7 E
The chisel slipped and nearly cut a finger from a hand
A
Well across attracted hummingbirds
E
One for each of seven words
B7 A B7
“Life if possible, art at any cost”
E
But somebody asked when the crowd dispersed
A
If they got that epitaph reversed
E B7 E
The undertaker pointed out the last word on the cross
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E
He said, “There are those who never come home”
Verse 6
E
Well a busted Mario all did see
A
Under glass and lock and key
E B7
Sure enough, as fate would have it, it got stolen too
E
And just like the real Mario
A
It found its way down through the barrio
E B7 E
And left on a lonesome boxcar as some train came rolling through
A
Well the undertaker was buried in dust
E
And the gravedigger satisfied his lust
B7 E B7
Worked his way to the top of the pile, a connoisseur of the arts
E
And everybody else that was concerned
A
Just chalked it up as a lesson learned
E B7 E
And the memories were flushed away down a common sewer of their hearts
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E E/G# E/F# E
There are those who never come home
Verse 7
E
Imagination’s hard to manage
A
It takes time to take advantage
E B7
It takes lots of space itself to fill out everyday
E
And the ending’s worse than Elvira Madigan
A
Guerrillas got loose and bombed the Vatican
E B7 E
Stole a couple of crying statues and hauled them away
A
Well they sold them as a matching pair
E
In some clandestine affair
B7 E B7
At last they’re out there somewhere crying face to face
E
And the real Maria spits in her mirror
A
And the real Mario spits in his beer
E B7 E
And both of them on separate paths, still drift from place to place
A B7 E
There are those who never come home
Outro
A B7 E E/G# E/F# E E/G# E/F# E
Yeah there are those who never come home











