| Mary Provost did not look her best
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| The day the cops bust into her lonely nest
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| In the cheap hotel up
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| On Hollywood West July 29
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| She’d been lyin' there
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| For two or three weeks
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| The neighbors said
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| They never heard a squeak
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| For hungry eyes that couid not speak
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| Said even little doggie’s have got to eat
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| She was a winner
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| The became the doggie’s dinner
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| She never meant that much to me
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| (But now I see) Oh poor Mary
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| Mary Provost was a movie queen
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| Mysterious angel of the silent screen
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| And run like the wind
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| The nation’s young men steam
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| When Mary crossed the silent screen
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| Oh she came out west from New York
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| But when the talkies came
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| Mary just couldn’t cope
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| Her public said Mary take a walk
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| All the way back to New York
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| Those twin balms didn’t help her sleep
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| As her nights grew long
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| And her days grew bleak
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| It’s all downhill
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| Once you’ve passed your peak
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| Mary got ready for that last big sleep
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| The cops came in
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| And they looked around
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| Throwing up everywhere over
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| What they found
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| The handywork of Mary’s little dachshund
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| That hungry little dachshund |