Mary Ann
Fare you well my own Mary Ann
Fare you well my dear,
For the ship is a-waiting and the wind blows high
And I am bound away to the sea, Mary Ann.
The pride of all the produce rare
That in our garden grew
Was pumpkins, but none could compare
In angel form with you my dear Mary Ann.
A lobster boiling in the pot
A bluefish on the hook
They're suffering long, but it's nothing like
The ache I bear for you my dear Mary Ann.
From Seeds of Love, Sedley.
Note: Apparently a burlesque of Turtle Dove, Mary Ann is an
Anglo-American music hall song of the 1850s.
@love @animal @food
filename[ MARYAN
play.exe MARYAN
RG
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