Maybe Mary Didn't See New York.
Copyright, MDCCCXCVI, by Henry J. Wehman.
Words and Music by Harry S. Miller.
Mary was a pretty, rural maiden,
Whose little heart with love was never laden,
Until one summer's day, came a city chap, so gay-
The sequel is a little furnished flat;
Then he told her of the dangers of the city,
Of its wicked ways And doings that, were wrong,
Which raised her curiosity and pity.
So one morning when to business he had gone-
Maybe Mary didn't see New York, you know;
She never missed a good thing in her walk, that's so;
From the east side to the west,
And the Bow'ry at its best,
Maybe Mary didn't see New York-
Oh, maybe Mary didn't see New York, you know;
For a country girl she rather liked the sport, just so;
Long before the sun went down,
She knew more than half the town-
May be Mary didn't see New York.
Mary was a creature quite amazing,
Who longed to Bee the city lights a-blazing.
One evening after nine she took in the Tenderloin,
While hubby at the club was far from home;
Then her innocence, and ways that seemed so chary,
Caught all the swells that came within her way;
At four A. M. when strolling home with Mary,
You could hear them singing coming down Broadway:- Chorus.