The Dead Weather . Sea of Cowards. Old Mary. Zeneszám

Old Mary full of grease
Your heart stops within you
Scary are the fruits of your tomb
And harsh are the terms of your sentence

Old Mary, sister of mine
Mother to the world, carry this burden
Now until the moment of your last breath
Now until the moment of your last breath

Old Mary full of grease
Your heart stops within you
Scary are the fruits of your tomb
And harsh are the terms of your sentence

Old Mary, sister of mine
Mother to the world, carry this burden
Now until the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath

Now till the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath

Now till the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath
Now till the moment of your last breath