someone I used to run with a long, long time ago...
lyrics
MARY THE MIDNIGHT MISSIONARY (nuvocoke@gmail.com)
Mary, the midnight missionary used to have a dream...
when she was just a sweet young thing, lickin' on a cold ice cream.
She wanted to be famous. She wanted to go far.
She wanted men fallin' at her feet. She wanted to be a rock star.
(Now, the first time I met Mary, it was 3 o'clock in the morning..
she was skipping down the middle of the street, singing to herself...
what i came to think of as Mary's "bop bop" song...)
She didn't look old enough to be out of high school,
but she was walkin' the city streets, late at night, all alone.
Passer-bys would honk their horns, acting like horny fools.
The girl remained real cool, she'd stop and put a quarter in
a pay phone.
She's Mary, the midnight missionary... wandering the boulevard
like it was her own backyard. She's waiting for some boy to take her dating. Everybody knows her at the corner bar. She's like a famous rock star. Oh Mary, you rock smokin' visionary, straight from Haight-Ashbury, oh Mary.
' barely tall enough to be allowed on the big rides at the amusement park, this girl always knew how to draw a crowd with the tricks she'd perform in the dark. She even had a pet hamster that she'd carry in a five-gallon can on her arm... like some sort of crazy, giant goodluck charm.
She's Mary, the midnight missionary... wandering the boulevard
like it was her own backyard. She's waiting for whatever you're contemplating. Everyone's seen her at the liquor store. When she's hangin' out front waitin' to score. Oh Mary, you rock smokin' visionary, straight from Haight-Ashbury, oh Mary.
What a screwed up world, where a little girl's biggest wishes can become so overgrown and her dreams end up comin' kinda true,
while she takes a trip through the twilight zone. Lives can get so
turned around, all inside out and upside down... Fame and fortune
are a thorny crown... especially in the baddest part of town.
She's Mary, the midnight missionary... wandering the boulevard
like it was her own backyard. She's waiting for her very own personal satan. Downtown, uptown, in the park... Mary always knows where to find a spark. Oh Mary, you rock smokin' visionary, straight from Haight-Ashbury, oh Mary.
Mary, Mary, so contrary, where does your garden grow? 'with coca leaves and hypodermic sleeves all lined up in a row... oh Mary...
singer/songwriter - San Francisco Bay Area - covering political satire, current events, life, love... and all that other stuff... a songwriter's work is never done!
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