Surprised

Violet:
Is this a suitcase – is it mine
Am I waitin' by the candy stand
Beneath the Greyhound Station sign?
Have I got a ticket in my hand?
Stupid
The people of Spruce Pine are stupid

Lord, I'll call the whole trip off
If Leroy Evans looks me in the face
Nope, I win, he's terrorized
This town is a superstitious place –
Next week, won't they be surprised

Bus Driver:
Get your tickets ready
This is Memphis bus, by way of Johnson City, Kingsport
Knoxville, Nashville, and a bunch's towns
No bigger'n this one. Tickets, please

Old Lady:
The Baltimore Catechism. A Catholic, in these parts?

Violet:
No ma'am

Bus Driver:
Move along, m…oooh. Miss

Violet:
“Mr. Wallace Weatherman”
Give my scar another look
In a week you'll be surprised –
Got my healin' planned out in my book
Next week, I'll come back disguised

He thinks well of himself, I can tell that
But what does he have, really?

Lips? This. Cheeks? Flat
I sure don't want mine like that
Nose? Bent. Ears? Runts
Got four eyes and he can't see once
Nothing in his face for me
His hair though – is it Cherokee?
It's black enough to be

I want my own as soft as a breeze –
And also curlier, please

Old Lady:
Do you mind if I sit here, dear?
I like to be up front, so's I can look out the front winders
Otherwise I get dizzy, looking off to the side…

Violet:
Once I bet her eyes were green
Wonder how those eyes would look on me
Funny, if she recognized
Finders keepers, lady, wait and see
Next week, won't you be surprised

Praise God, it is started. September 4th, 1964

Mama, your book says “It's blessed to pity”
Mama, just look, I'm a long ways from pretty
Be an angel, Mama, help to save me
Make the Lord restore the face you gave me –
And I will praise his grace
Rain or shine
When you see a brand-new face
When you see a brand-new face
When you see a brand-new face –
And it's mine –
Won't you be surprised
Won't you be surprised
Won't you be surprised
Won't you be –

Old Lady:
You going far?

Violet:
Tulsa, Oklahoma

Old Lady:
I never been there. I hear the trees give out. Oh! My goodness

Violet:
That's just why I'm going. Get this scar healed once and for all

Old Lady:
‘Course my mailman Vincent Finzer was
Born with a cleft palate, and he couldn't be any sweater!

Violet:
I wasn't born with this scar
It took an axe blade to split my face in two