They say she's not the girl for me,
They say she's not true blue,
They talk of what she use to be
And things she use to do.

They corner me and tell me why,
She'd never make a wife,
They shake their head and heave a sigh,
And talk of her past life.

But what is past is past, I guess
They're not the ones to judge
I'll never love her one bit less,
Because they hold a grudge.

I've looked a little deeper and,
I've found a lot that's fine,
And though they put her on a brand,
I'm proud to call her mine.

Her past is like an open book,
That all may see and read,
Everyone may take a look,
At the life she use to lead.

Step up you hypocirtes, and see,
A woman that's true blue,
She's plenty good enough for me
And far too good for you.

Let he among you without sin
Just cast the first word-stone
You are no better than she's been
So leave her past alone.

I've chosen her to share my lot,
To set at my right hand,
Her love for me rubs out the blot
Because I understand.