Wicked Mistress

A garden in rows all neat and in line

Special you called it, you called it divine

You made it a marvel to breathe in the aroma

and you kicked them all out

and locked the gate

And shut the joys out

For your sanity's sake

Mrs. Mary, you were quite the contrary one

Never having any fun

Mrs. Mary you became like a bum

and never paid anyone

Now your garden's over-run

with sickly things to come

Better, better run before you're done

You'd made them work like slaves

Until each rose was perfection

And made them dig their own graves

for some twisted revelation

Evil was your middle name

Evil was your candle's flame

Wicked Mistress

Your garden of rows is now in a decline

Special, you'd called it but now it's a sign

The proof that you lost it and you're crazy now

There's a gate at the entrance

There's no visitors now

For your sanity's sake

Mrs. Mary, you were quite the contrary one

Never having any fun

Mrs. Mary, you became like a bum

and never paid anyone

Now your garden's over-run

with sickly things to come

Better, better run before you're done

Wicked Mistress