This Time

V/O: Ladies and gentlemen. For your listening entertainment this evening. We present the woman that 
put the ‘sick’ back into ‘music’ and the ‘cunt’ back into ‘country’. Mary Louise Thelma Georgina Sally 
Parton (no relation).

Mary: Hi y’all. How ya doing? People have come up to me asking, “How’d y’all become a country and 
western singer?” There isn’t a set rule but all I can tell them is my life story. I was born at an early age 
in a small town in Texas. Both my parents were related in a brotherly/sisterly way and I was the 
youngest to 15 brothers. My father died in the mines when I was young and my mother died from a 
virulent strain of VD whilst prostituting her body try to raise money so as we could eat in the evening. 
It was then left up to me to continue with the tradition of having sex with the rest of the family. I 
enjoyed it but it was an added burden of responsibility to my young shoulders. After the rest of my 
kinfolk died after a particularly vicious bought of PMT on my behalf, I found the only thing left open 
to me was to sing about my past. This song I’m going to sing is dedicated to all those people who have 
been treated badly by their partners. I know it’s hard, but sometimes you’ve just got to say, “Fuck off 
and die of internal bleeding, you bastard.”

I met you in a singles bar in downtown LA
I liked the way you looked and the nice things you’d say.
You didn’t treat me bad like the other men
And I promised to see you again.

You picked me up at seven for a meal and a dance.
You made me feel alive, you held me in a trance.
 My heart was full of love, it was fit to burst,
But I never figured the worst.

I never could have guessed the secret that you keep.
I never could have known how much you’d make me weep.
I should have realized before I let you start
By the time that you had finished you’d’ve broke my heart.

This time you’ve gone too far,
This is the last time you crawl back for more
This is the last insult I will permit
This is the last time, you shit.

We dated for a year, happiness was found.
I took no notice of the other guys around.
We moved in together, a little house for two
But I still never guessed the nasty things you’d do.

Then at last I found my dream was a lie,
My world came crashing down, I was ready to die.
Because I finally found out you did the dirty on me.
The only problem was it was literally.

(There was a nasty smell in the air, if you get my drift)

You shat in the kitchen, you shat on the bed,
You shat in my closet, and my garden shed.
You dropped your load in my halls; you pebble-dashed my walls,
You left little floaters in my goldfish bowl.
You crapped on my mirror in my make-up box.
You then wiped your ring-piece on my party frocks.
You must have shat in the daytime and then all night long
The only place you didn’t shit was down the john.

You shit, shat, squit and crapped,
Whoopsied, dumped, pooed on the cat,
Jobbie, plopped, moved your bowels,
Left your skids all down my towels.
You went and logged in all my shoes,
My pockets filled with number twos.
You went and left a turd in every room you’d been.
You even left a message on my answer machine.

Now, This time you’ve gone too far,
This is the last time you crawl back for more,
This is the last insult I will permit,
This is the last time you shit, you shit,
This is the last time you shit.