Phemiec - Mary

L^Gmook at all the many colors, so exquisitely embroidered, d^Felicately and precisely sewn into a line o^Gmrganized in harmony, relationships so intricate h^Fow’d I ever come across a tapestry so fine?

but w^Gmhat is t^Ebhis? you’re burning h^Foles in ^Gmmy stitch^Ebing the colours b^Fleeding into o^Gmne big m^Ebess did y^Dou guess, I’d l^Fet this fabric f^Ebra-^Day?

I’m m^Ebeddling with murderers who s^Ftill deserve to pay for their ins^Danity, and though I’m o^Ebne of them, I’m rarest of my k^Find, for many fell but only ^DI arose. It's b^Ebeen so long, since I’ve seen the s^Fun, who’s to say if the colours have f^Daded? L^Ebocked away so l^Fong, now jaded, left o^Dnly to decay

I’m M^Ebary. I feel like M^Fary in this dress. I’m M^Dary. [Verse 2] A^Gmnd virgin journeys lie before us, patient and inscrutable T^Fhere’s clouds of visions, crowds of villains, mulling in withdrawal A^Gmnd who would make the sacrifice, who but I is suitable? w^Fho but the sharp dressed woman with a dull chainsaw?

I m^Gmean no i^Ebnsult, but I’m f^Fed ^Gmup. It’s ^Ebmy fault, gave you the ^Fgo ahead I’ve ^Gmlost my ^Ebway, my h^Dopeful days are j^Fust as dead as^Eb I ^Dam

And f^Ebailure on my part to interc^Fede has now ironically or c^Dosmically, like poetry, come in between our destiny and ^Ebus but now there’s nothing left and n^Fobody to meddle with to t^Dry and make it better, it’s unsettling, to mother nothing

M^Ebightn’t I have seen this coming ^Fon the horizon? s^Dtorms of green and orange, this world of monsters taking form but ^Ebno, it is my fate to simply f^Fade away like wind l^Dike someone else that I could name that shouldn’t have been born

Of M^Ebary. I feel like M^Fary in this dress. I’m M^Dary and I’ve n^Gmothing to confess but h^Ebear me, cause n^Fo-one else is left I’m M^Dary… I’m M^Gmary ^{Eb Gm Eb} I’m M^Gmary ^{Eb Gm Eb} Gm Eb Gm Eb