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Mrs. Rita
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Oh kind Mrs. Rita I never will tell
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The way that you keep us poor girls here in hell
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And I never will sneak to the News of the World
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Oh kind Mrs. Rita, sincere Mrs. Rita
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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 isnât 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
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Some guardian angel take pity and sweep me away
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Seems I work every hour God sends in a day
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To line the pockets of Rita OâConnor
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To line the pockets of Rita OâConnor
Oh you canât call it stealing, more helping yourself
If the odd pair of nylons should fall off the shelf
And fall into somebodyâs handbag letâs 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, weâll love you always
by: José Duarte
[email protected]
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