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Pretty Mary

Dan was sure she was a Playmate From a recent magazine. Kenny thought she looked like jail bait, Dressing up to pass for seventeen. Michael said, “I bet she’s pro.” Kenny said, “I guess you’d know.” Talking in a small town, Everything gets passed ’round, Doesn’t really matter if it’s so.
I see England, I see France. I saw someone take a chance. Chances are she’ll make it home OK. With silver bells and cockle shells, Pretty Mary never tells: All the boys say she’s the best that way.
Mary found a job in Chi-town, Keeping numbers in a book, Choosing every sum she’d write down To conceal how much her bosses took. Office hours were sun to sun, But Mary’s work was never done. Cocaine in the evening. Looks can be deceiving. Wasn’t everybody having fun?
I see England, I see France. I saw someone take a chance. Chances are she’ll see through their designs. With silver bells and cockle shells, Pretty Mary never tells: All the deeds she reads between the lines.
Mary called it quits when she turned thirty, And went back to her quiet little town; Tired of making deals and feeling dirty; Wondering what it’s like to settle down.
When Tom saw Pretty Mary, he decided That she would have to be his wife. “I haven’t been around much,” he confided, “But here, folks like us can make a life.”
Tom and Mary lived together, But their dreams were paper thin. All that seemed to last forever Were regrets for what they might have been. Crying to herself one day, She packed a bag and walked away. Broken hearts and bruises: “Everybody loses.” Mary knew of nothing more to say.
I see England, I see France. I saw someone take a chance. Chances are she’ll find her way alone. With silver bells and cockle shells, Pretty Mary never tells: All her secrets will remain her own.
I see England, I see France. I saw someone take a chance.