Wrapped in her raincoat

She crosses herself as she walks from the church

Head bent in sorrow

Her life feels so empty she's nowhere to turn

She can't tell her husband

He won't understand

Why his blood is thinner

Nor thicker than sand

Oh Mercy, whatever will become of me



Fourteen days later

Still nobody knows but it's starting to show

Sleep in the armchair

Old Harold gets fatter and ceases to care

She said on that day

That till death do us part

But now she has someone

Who's close to her heart

Oh Mercy, whatever will become of me



Fighting her conscience

Her suitcase is packed and she's ready to leave

Still feeling unsure

The statue of Mary now points to the door

Skipping and smiling

She catches her plane

The child she had longed for

A new home and name

Oh Harold, whatever will become of you