Mary, Mary-belle with an upper-case M
All your neighbors know what your mother sells
But you carved out a name; you carved out a name for yourself
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
There are murders about
Guinea pig hair in a twisted mouth
Through a hole to the railway
And Brian's face down
Keep your wits
He will not be missed
He didn't have a family to begin with
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
Look out, look out
There are murders about
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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