Mary Louise
Whitewolf
Trying to write a story is difficult enough. Putting it to music from scratch, hard work, especially going through a ton of library material for something that works. Trying to arrange and sing it even harder, but here it is anyway…
Lyrics by Barry Gee
Another Incest Song
Thank you very much for your collaboration!
Admiral Bob shared a wonderful bluesy guitar that provided wonderful accents to this song. (I apologize for using it in such a provocative tune.)
I was rather liberal with Evo Auto-Tune on my voice, normally I couldn’t sing my way out of a paper bag. Maybe I overdid it, but I’m an amature, so I’ll learn with practise and experimentation.
Mary Louise
Tempo: 80bpm, Key: Gmaj
Mary Louise was going on three, her father could stand it no more.
He screamed at his wife, threatened her life, then walked out slamming the door.
Mary Lousie was going on three, didn’t like to see momma cry,
She went and held her hand but didn’t understand it was poppa’s final goodbye.
(Chorus)
Poppa had gone with the clothes he had on, nothing much more to his name.
He wandered around from city to town, a folk singer searching for fame.
He played his guitar in night-club and bar, doing his best to please.
And there in a locket, hung around his neck, a picture of Mary Louise.
Mary Louise was going thirteen, her mother was looking real old.
Sometimes she asked where her father was at, the answer was bitter and cold;
“Don’t talk of your dad, he was worse than bad, he ran off and left us alone”.
But Mary Louise had sweet memories of the father that she’d hardly known.
(Chorus)
Mary Louise was soon seventeen, the bar-room was dusty and dim.
The singer on the stage must have been twice her age but she was attracted to him.
He bought her a drink, she didn’t know what to think when he said ‘your room or mine’.
He conquered her dread, in a cheap hotel bed, with the help of a bottle of wine.
(Chorus)
Young hours of day and early awake, surprised that she felt no regrets.
Tell me she asked is that a photograph that’s hanging around your neck.
He showed her a picture, her thoughts were a mixture of fear and dreadful unease.
She knew it well, he didn’t have to tell her it was a picture of Mary Louise.
(Chorus)
A sweet picture of Mary Louise.
Lyrics by Barry Gee
Another Incest Song
Thank you very much for your collaboration!
Admiral Bob shared a wonderful bluesy guitar that provided wonderful accents to this song. (I apologize for using it in such a provocative tune.)
I was rather liberal with Evo Auto-Tune on my voice, normally I couldn’t sing my way out of a paper bag. Maybe I overdid it, but I’m an amature, so I’ll learn with practise and experimentation.
Mary Louise
Tempo: 80bpm, Key: Gmaj
Mary Louise was going on three, her father could stand it no more.
He screamed at his wife, threatened her life, then walked out slamming the door.
Mary Lousie was going on three, didn’t like to see momma cry,
She went and held her hand but didn’t understand it was poppa’s final goodbye.
(Chorus)
Poppa had gone with the clothes he had on, nothing much more to his name.
He wandered around from city to town, a folk singer searching for fame.
He played his guitar in night-club and bar, doing his best to please.
And there in a locket, hung around his neck, a picture of Mary Louise.
Mary Louise was going thirteen, her mother was looking real old.
Sometimes she asked where her father was at, the answer was bitter and cold;
“Don’t talk of your dad, he was worse than bad, he ran off and left us alone”.
But Mary Louise had sweet memories of the father that she’d hardly known.
(Chorus)
Mary Louise was soon seventeen, the bar-room was dusty and dim.
The singer on the stage must have been twice her age but she was attracted to him.
He bought her a drink, she didn’t know what to think when he said ‘your room or mine’.
He conquered her dread, in a cheap hotel bed, with the help of a bottle of wine.
(Chorus)
Young hours of day and early awake, surprised that she felt no regrets.
Tell me she asked is that a photograph that’s hanging around your neck.
He showed her a picture, her thoughts were a mixture of fear and dreadful unease.
She knew it well, he didn’t have to tell her it was a picture of Mary Louise.
(Chorus)
A sweet picture of Mary Louise.