I really want to be like Mary
And curl up at your knees
But my overbearing Martha part
Has to hoover the last crumbs
We lift our feet for her to wash
And dry them with her tears
She whirls around our little island
Of eternal peace and quiet
Even if I still don't understand a word
You say the light in your face
Is all I need to see
I call to Martha come look
For a moment into your eyes
But she's wrapped up in another book
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