| Mary, Queen of Arkansas, it's not too early for dreamin'
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| The sky is grown with cloud seed sown and a bastard's love can be redeeming
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| Mary, my queen, your soft hulk is reviving
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| No, you're not too late to desecrate, the servants are just rising
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| Well, I'm just a lonely acrobat, the live wire is my trade
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| I've been a shine boy for your acid brat and a wharf rat of your state
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| Mary, my queen, your blows for freedom are missing
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| You're not man enough for me to hate or woman enough for kissing
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| The big top is for dreamers, we can take the circus all the way to the border
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| And the gallows wait for martyrs whose papers are in order
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| But I was not born to live to die, and you were not born for queenin'
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| It's not too late to infiltrate, the servants are just leavin'
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| Mary, Queen of Arkansas, your white skin is deceivin'
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| You wake and wait to lie in bait and you almost got me believin'
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| But on your bed, Mary, I can see the shadow of a noose
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| I don't understand how you can hold me so tight and love me so damn loose
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| But I know a place where we can go, Mary
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| Where I can get a good job and start out all over again clean
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| I got contacts deep in Mexico where the servants have been seen |