I would not be so stoned If my Mary were here I don't think I'd have phoned you If my Mary were here I'm a sad sack Sir Galahad Who's sword's around his knees With a Grail no longer holy And a prayer that's saying - please I would not be alone If my Mary were here But she took off And Lord I'm lost.
I don't think I'd be drinking If my Mary were here And I know what I'd be thinking If my Mary were here We'd be wrapping up a blanket Full of cheddar cheese and wine Packing up our camper with a rendezvous in mind And we'd picnic out in Lincoln Park If Mary were here But she split So I got lit
I'm sorry that I called you In the middle of the night But you're the one who listens When I need a little light I know we haven't talked Since I dropped you in the dirt I know you're not my lady now But Baby, how I hurt.
(I could whistle up an old tune That your memory might recall Rustle up some reminisce 'Bout the good old days and all If I were seeking someone else I could find a way to hide But I'm pleading like a pauper, Babe And it leaves no place for pride)
I would toss away my troubles When my Mary was here But now I'm lost inside the ruble Cause my Mary's not here So could I come on over With my heart in my hands And place it on your pillow Like a rusty old tin can I'm drunk and seeing double And my Mary's not here Once again Be the friend That you've been And take me in.