“Whisper now from here till doomsday

But I will never hear enough”

Oh my Billie, I could have

never heard enough.

 

How did you maintain in touch

when the love you sang

about betrayed you?

Alone with him,

alone without,

and from within you shout:

“That’s life I guess…”

 

Maybe you were meant to be

as lonesome as your songs convey.

Maybe you were meant to sway

others hearts, while yours

ruptured restlessly.

 

Dear Lady rest your sorrows

deep in mother earth.

For the suffering of carnal beings

matters not in other worlds.

 

Dear mistress of song, of tears, and of blood

owner of a sultry gaze, into sunlight:

you are light, you shine from beyond.

 

God bless the things that you own

Lady, who carried her own;

who proved a danger to herself alone,

and yet is all but gone from memory.

 

Lady of sickly spikes, stuck and cast out;

Lady who saved herself in time to be

thrust back into the spotlight

For one last show;

 

Lady of the day, beauty of the hour,

there’ve been none as sweet as you.