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!"