Miss Marilyn Pierce


My mother once said that "a young lady's work is at home"

Not in the prairies or the cornfields, that's where the "men belong"

And I, young as I was, ready to argue my case

But she just shook head and said, "you better stay in your place"

She said I was lookin' for trouble

But she was overjoyed when she found mistakes with double

Pickin' on young folk was like a game

She thought she was the master, but truly the one that be at shame

When my Mother told me to "get a husband"

I threw her lamp out the window

I had enough with her pig scratch

Why couldn't she just be quiet and work in the garden patch

I always had to listen to her word

But it was clearly absurd!

I had enough with her game

It was time she would meet the real lady with a brain

But she just shook her head

She was not the losin' type, like hot cornbread

Still, she spoke loud and fierce

Stood up and said, "you better have some nerve to speak that way, Miss Marilyn Pierce!"

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