Mary goes shopping on a Sunday morn To spend lots of money – that’s why she’s born To maintain her residence, to feed her pets To buy a new outfit and high cigarettes
This young girl Mary, she’s not insane She buys only things herself to have a gain At least she thinks so in supermarket And buys, and buys if she has started
Mary wasn’t born a millionaire’s daughter Mary doesn’t know how to wash the water She plays a role ’mong new friends who adore And steals their money, but she needs more
More money is needed; more cash is needed More money for Mary, more money is needed
Mary wants to taste, to taste the gold But unfortunately her tongue is sold She has to taste things I shouldn’t talk Her heart is empty, her soul does shout
She packs dozen bags and changes her address But where Mary goes neighbors couldn’t guess Again she removes, again on the road Direction in a dream guardian angel told
Mary wasn’t born a bank robber’s daughter Mary couldn’t do any of the manslaughter She fucks a rich man – owner of a store And spends their money – but she needs more
More money is needed; more cash is needed More money for Mary, more money is needed
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