| I adore thee, Mother Mary
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| But would you change me back to a witch?
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| Let me live in the arms of a sorry old elm
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| Give the gypsy moths a realm of their own
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| For a postman’s fee would I work for thee
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| From that tree would I swoop down and leave
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| A billion blue eggs of eternity
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| And in no time you’d have your own See
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| Don’t just stare, I mean it, really
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| Hear my prayer, I give it freely
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| Are you there, fleur de lis?
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| I adore thee, Mother Mary
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| But would you change me back to a witch?
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| Let me live in the arms of a willow
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| Fly around not wearing a stitch
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| For so long has this room been so hollow
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| We wait at the gate for an echo
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| In the flesh of your newly cleaned frescoes
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| Where Jesus holds John to his breast
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| Wrapped around and rocking slowly
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| No one bound to be so holy
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| In your gown of fleur de lis
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| I adore thee, Mother Mary
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| But would you change my back to a witch?
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| As a witch would I love you more than any man
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| So give a wink, give a nod, give a damn
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| Be a sport, Mary, and don’t tell Dad
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| He need never know how he’s been had
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| Never you mind about those seven seals
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| 'Cause Daddy was a one-shot deal
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| One, two, three, it could be that easy
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| There we’d be, I with my baby
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| On a sea of fleur de lis
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| Do re mi, it could be that easy
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| There we’d be, I with my baby
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| On a sea of fleur de lis |