My mother's name was mary, she was so good and true.
Because her name was mary, she called me mary, too.
She wasn't gay or airy, but plain as she could be;
I'd hate to be contrary, and call myself marie.
For it was mary, mary, plain as any name can be;
But with propriety, society will say 'marie'.
But it was mary, mary, long before the fashions came:
And there is something there that sounds so fair,
It's a grand old name!
Now, when her name is mary, there is no falseness there;
When to marie she'll vary, she'll surely bleach her hair.
Though mary's ordinary, marie is fair to see;
Don't ever fear sweet mary, beware of sweet marie!
For it was mary, mary, plain as any name can be;
But with propriety, society will say 'marie'.
But it was mary, mary, long before the fashions came:
And there is something there that sounds so fair,
It's a grand old name!