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 mésallied 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