| I one dressed up and went to town
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| To court a fair young lady
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| When I inquired about her name
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| Her name was Devilish Mary
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| Come fa la ling come, ling come
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| Fa la ling come, day
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| Fa la ling come, ling come
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| Fa la ling come, day
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| When me and Mary began to spark
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| She got in a hurry
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| Made it all up in her mind
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| She’d marry me next Thursday
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| Hadn’t been married for about two weeks
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| Before we oughta been parted
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| Hadn’t said one single word
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| She’d kicked up her heels and started
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| One day I said to Mary
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| «Think we ought to be parted.»
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| And just as soon as I said the word
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| She packed all her clothes and started
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| She washed my clothes in old soap suds
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| And filled up my bathtub with switches
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| She let me know right from the start
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| She was gonna wear my britches
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| Now if I ever marry again
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| It’ll be for love not riches
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| Marry a little girl about two feet high
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| And she can’t wear my britches |