Seven Months Married

Seven months she’s been married and all to her grief
Seven months she’s been married but found no relief
Seven months she’s been married but still she’s a maid
Oh she’s ruined, she’s ruined, she’s ruined
Oh he comes to her bed almost every night
He calls her his treacle, and holds her too tight.
The love that hangs on him like leaves on a tree,
Oh she’s ruined, she’s ruined, she’s ruined
Oh he brings her fine shoes with straps made of gold
And we all told her twice that he is too old.
If she could do it again, she wouldn’t do it again
Oh she’s ruined, she’s ruined she’s ruined.
Her father he gave her five acres of land
Her mother she gave her eight hundred pounds.
But she will never more for the sake of a man
Oh she’s ruined, she’s ruined she’s ruined