Mary Ann & One-Eyed Dan
Shovels & Rope





           C                Am
Mary Ann was a waitress at the circus
 F                                         G                             C
Dan was a writer for the Delaware locale observer
                           Am
Just 21 and just 2 months out of the service
F                                               G                       C
Missing half an eyelid so he had to wear a patch

                          Am
Mary Ann introduced herself to Dan
                 F                                            G                                     C
She said do you like the menu or do you need me to read it to you
                                            Am
Halfway angry half turned on and half confused
   F                                                            G                              C
He took her by the arm and went out back to make a match


And he said
       Am                F                      G                      C
So long to my former life, to a worried life so long
       Am               F                      G                     C
So long to a harder life, to a troubled life so long

 
Lying there under the soft glow of the sunrise
The moon was still awake and all the generators lowly humming
She picked a flower and fastened it on to his bad eye
She said come on let’s get married I think we might get along

And she said
So long to my former life, to a selfish life so long
So long to a bitter life, to a troubled life so long

Dan he was no poet couldn’t dance he never slept
He had nightmares every night of rain and fire on those bloody beaches
Just then the dew dropped from the flower and he wept
Mary Ann you are a melody I think I wrote a song

It goes like
So long to my worried life, to a lonesome life so long
So long to a wandering life, to a wounded life so long

And we all said
So long to those memories, to everything we can’t let go so long
So long to our former selves, to our selfish selves so long
To our selfish selves so long
To our selfish selves so long