Mary went to school in Amsterdam
Now she thinks she's seen the world
And she wants to be an actress, yes
She thinks she'll make the Big Time (oh boy)

Here we go again, it's Friday night
She comes around itching for a fight
You know you shouldn't take it personal
But it's hard when she throws the book at you

And every single time she cries it's clear
In her voice, there's something queer
Sooner or later, dear
Something's surely going to have to change around here

Chorus:
Stop me, stop me, stop me
Before I get creative
Stop me, stop me, stop me
Before I get creative
Stop me, stop me, stop me
Before I blow the damn thing

Mary likes her coffee black and bitter
Well, that's okay, but now she wants to sleep around
And she still comes to you for comfort
When she's down

The stories that she tells, well, they don't help
To make you feel one bit better about yourself
And you know she doesn't mean it (she doesn't mean it)
But then again, what does she mean?

When every single song you've sung is wrong
And you are forced to sing along
To the radio, man, that plays the same damn song
Year after year after year after year (oh my god now)

Chorus

Bridge:
I never wanted more than this
I never wanted more
I thought that this was happiness
Now, I'm not so sure

Mary thinks of moving back to Amsterdam:
"The people there are nicer, and the culture, it's oh so free."
"But what about me?"
You'd like to ask.

Mary shrugs her shoulders, looks at the floor:
ÕI'm sorry but I just don't
Love you anymore." It's funny
But it doesn't make you laugh.

When every single thing that you do is wrong
You just have to play along
But even Superman, well, he ain't that strong
Fighting kryptonite night after night.
I'm fighting kryptonite night after night (all right)