Marianne of Liverpool
Come down from your silk heights


From descents low long Merseyside
To distant shores of old ‘Eire


Now decored in black onyx, and the rarest of sea pearl
Long time roving, from shores of the Crosby
To the beckon of Sefton’s Earls


May I have loved you, your tortured azure stone eyes?
Regarding so fondly, the past autumn skies


In a French shopkeeper’s window I gazed the fresh loaves
And reveled your zealous, yet desolate soul

In a matter of words, you sold your sweet blood
For myriad of trinket and pound, and yet no traces of love


And how you sell your sweet time, for adoration and pain
And all rising will, of the Monarchial claim


Marianne of Liverpool, less hamlet, than town
Come down from your silk heights!!


To arms, none bold and bourgeois
But daring and sound


Your corset is strong love, chaste, and miserly curved
But the ancient planked piers speak calm for your spirited revert


And sail the route of old vintage, within mine own arms
Steer to the sun love, the winds shall abide


Oh Marianne of Liverpool
Never oh never love, never return