Mary Louise (an experiment)

Lyrics not written by an AI, they came out of my own mind. ____________________ [Verse 1] Mary Louise was going on three, her father could stand it no more. He screamed at his wife, threatened her life, then walked out slamming the door. [Pre-Chorus] Mary Louise was going on three, didn’t like to see momma cry, She went and held her hand but didn’t understand it was poppa’s final goodbye. [Chorus] Poppa had gone with the clothes he had on, nothing much more to his name. He wandered around from city to town, a folk singer searching for fame. He played his guitar in night-club and bar, doing his best to please. And there in a locket, hung around his neck, a picture of Mary Louise. [Verse 2] Mary Louise was going thirteen, her mother was looking real old. Sometimes she asked where her father was at, the answer was bitter and cold; [Pre-Chorus] “Don’t talk of your dad, he was worse than bad, he ran off and left us alone”. But Mary Louise had sweet memories of the father that she’d hardly known. [Chorus] Poppa had gone with the clothes he had on, nothing much more to his name. He wandered around from city to town, a folk singer searching for fame. He played his guitar in night-club and bar, doing his best to please. And there in a locket, hung around his neck, a picture of Mary Louise. [Verse 3] Mary Louise was soon seventeen, the bar-room was dusty and dim. The singer on the stage must have been twice her age but she was attracted to him. [Pre-Chorus] He bought her a drink, she didn’t know what to think when he said "your room or mine"? He conquered her dread, in a cheap hotel bed, with the help of a bottle of wine. [Chorus] Poppa had gone with the clothes he had on, nothing much more to his name. He wandered around from city to town, a folk singer searching for fame. He played his guitar in night-club and bar, doing his best to please. And there in a locket, hung around his neck, a picture of Mary Louise. [Bridge] Young hours of day and early awake, surprised that she felt no regrets. "Tell me", she asked, "is that a photograph that’s hanging around your neck"? [Outro] He showed her a picture, her thoughts were a mixture of fear and dreadful unease. She knew it well, he didn’t have to tell her it was a picture of Mary Louise. A sweet picture of Mary Louise. A sweet, sweet picture... ...of Mary Louise.