Mary had a little lamb    
Whose fleece was black as sin
He had a worn and tired look
And always reeked of gin

He led her into parties
And put on quite the show
For everywhere the lamb went
Mary was sure to go

He guided liquor down her throat
Until her vision blurred
As it seemed he liked it best
When her words were slurred

He led her into strangers' arms
And emptied her wary mind
So she would try to fill it
With whomever she could find


He stayed with her one lonely night
And smoked his way to bliss
As Mary stroked him timidly
And gave his head a kiss

He turned his head and looked at her
With worn and tired eyes
Then turned to ashes in her hands
And left her with her lies