• Mary,
    The masterpiece,
    With goddess like beauty she stood on her perch,
    Flashing lights,
    Things so bright,
    As people cover her in flashy jewels.
    And how the loved her,
    Her body on every cover,
    Every body loved her.
    But of course,
    Mary,
    Mary,
    So contrary,
    Would try not to play a fool,
    But what a doll,
    Would make a fall
    Filled with bitter pills and alcohol.

    And Mary,
    Confused and dizzy,
    Her mind to busy,
    To understand.
    Addiction,
    Being her affliction,
    And what an accusation,
    To say it was not her fault.
    Because the stains on her dress,
    And the mascara dripping down her face,
    Told a story quite different,
    Than the words spoken in their place.

    And Mary,
    Mary,
    So cold,
    Yet still so contrary,
    So alone,
    With no blood red rug to walk across,
    No man with her arm in his.
    No,
    Just four walls,
    And two doors leading in to halls,
    That all led out side,
    Where all the flashing lights,
    Were waiting for what had become of Mary.

    Because a goddess of love can burn like a letter,
    Because real beauty lasts forever,
    Masks can vanish over time,
    And show you,
    What’s on the inside.