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.