Leslie Anne Levine

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 rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoat
Of the girl who died with me
On the roofs above the streets
The only love I’ve known’s a chimney sweep
Lost and 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 mesallied
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 now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoat
Of the girl who died with me