Mary, Mary, quite contrary

Where's your white wine, silver, and gold

Is it locked now in your mansion

Having pity on the eye's of the poor

Now in weary halls of the cathedral

Mary tries to pray for her soul

She doesn't know the price of her penance

She find's herself now very old

And she goes

Oh baby, just one more time

Will you please give me

Some piece of mine

In the moonlight, in the moonlight

In the room with barred up windows

Mary tries to count her gold

She doesn't know the price

Of her wealth now

She finds herself, very old

And she goes

Mary, Mary where have you gone too

Where's your white wine, silver and gold

Is it locked now in your mansion

Having pity on your soul.