killing strawberries

Twas wrong to let
the strawberries die, wrong again
To kill the fly
Wrong to curse at poor god
And curse the priest and kick a
door

twas wicked to drink all the wine
But oh my lord I felt so fine
T'was wrong to wear that not my
skirt which now is stained with
Muddy dirt
I really shouldn't of sang so loud 
Out in the dark in pouring rain
Was probably wrong to laugh and
Laugh
At next door when they did complain
I'd like to say I'm sorry now and
Maybe act my age somehow
but mercy me I'm really not
Can't wait to do it all again

M