Mary Mary
Quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
It's really quite plain
It tears and it maims
To feed on your tales of woe

Mary Mary
Quite contrary
How does your garden bloom?
I give it terror and fright
Things that go bump in the night
Black Roses grow best in the gloom

Mary Mary
Quite contrary
How do you deal with weeds?
Cruel and quick they are torn
But I don't watch for the thorns
The Flowers do love me to bleed

Mary Mary
Quite contrary
How will you garden die
I must always be here
They grow from my tears
And the thorns come into my eyes

Mary Mary
Quite contrary
What was your garden before?
From the devil and wife
There came twisted life
Milked from the breast of a whore

Mary Mary
You're really quite scary
I think I shall go away
My dear you've been deceived
You're not allowed to leave
The Roses quite want you to stay