Mother Mary - Priory

It’s supper time but he stays outside

He tends to feel the world, the sun is high

He drowns himself in a bottle of rye

The young men live while the old men…

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry my soul

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

In a bed where I can sleep

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry my soul

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry me

To a place where I can sleep

The days are hard but there’s mouths to feed

And his old hands still sewing seed

Remembered when he was young, he made that creek

Until the mortal core

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry my soul

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

In a bed where I can sleep

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry my soul

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry me

To a place where I can sleep

The days are hard

The days are hard

The days are hard

The days are hard

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you bury me

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry my soul

Oh, Mother Mary won’t you carry me

To a place where I can sleep