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Mrs. Rita
by
Richard Thompson
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Lyrics
Oh kind Mrs. Rita I never will tell The way that you keep us poor girls here in hell And I never will sneak to the News of the World Oh kind Mrs. Rita Sincere Mrs. Rita A friend to a stranger, a ma to a girl With the chalking and cutting and stitching and such We earn what we earn and it isn’t too much Enough to keep half a step higher than trash Oh kind Mrs. Rita Sincere Mrs. Rita So loose with the purse strings, so free with the cash Some guardian angel take pity and sweep me away Seems I work every hour God sends in a day To line the pockets of Rita O’Connor To line the pockets of Rita O’Connor Oh you can’t call it stealing, more helping yourself If the odd pair of nylons should fall off the shelf And fall into somebody’s handbag let’s say Oh kind Mrs. Rita Sincere Mrs. Rita It sort of makes up for the pitiful pay Oh kind Mrs. Rita Sincere Mrs. Rita God keep and preserve you, we’ll love you always
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