Leslie Ann Devine

My name is Leslie Anne Levine
My mother birthed me down a dry ravine
My mother birthed me far too soon
Born at nine and dead at noon
Fifteen years gone now, I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattled bone
Fifteen years gone now, I still cling to the petticoat
Of the girl who died with me
On the roof above the streets
The only love I’ve known is a chimney sweep
Lost him lodged inside a flue
Back in 1842
Fifteen years gone now, I still wail from these catacombs
And curse my mother’s name
Fifteen years gone now, still a wastrel mésallie
Has brought this fate on me
My name is Leslie Anne Levine
I’ve got no one left to mourn for me
My body lies inside its grave
In a ditch not far away
Fifteen years gone, I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattled bone
Fifteen years gone now, I still cling to the petticoat
Of the girl who died with me
Who died with me
Who died with me
Who died with me