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