Mary, Mary, quite contrary Where's your white wine, silver, and gold Is it locked now in your mansion Having pity on the eye's of the poor Now in weary halls of the cathedral Mary tries to pray for her soul She doesn't know the price of her penance She find's herself now very old And she goes Oh baby, just one more time Will you please give me Some piece of mine In the moonlight, in the moonlight In the room with barred up windows Mary tries to count her gold She doesn't know the price Of her wealth now She finds herself, very old And she goes Mary, Mary where have you gone too Where's your white wine, silver and gold Is it locked now in your mansion Having pity on your soul.