From cheering burghers of Brighton
Wintry theatres in
Brown seaside streets
Robert Gibson took me through
The lamp-adoring Welsh farms
The inky sea was under us
And on his back lay my long white arms
This is the only true history of Lizzie Finn by herself
To a world of tobacco and billiard tables
Marriage in Christchurch
The lonely vicars,
Lost sparrows in the blueness
Robert heaving
Forever like a sailor
On the rope of my drifting
We had a daughter
And that tang of cut gra**
Got into my dreams
At night I went up to the old house tower
Full of the true histories of spiders
There in the best light
With my candle shadows
I hitched my linens
And danced
This is the only true history of Lizzie Finn by herself
The only true history of Lizzie Finn
The only true history of Lizzie Finn
Of Lizzie Finn by herself