Raymond

Forget all these clowns, that come to woo her, many without elan, as loud as her woes, ships blow their hooters, every song sings of home, not just her gown, that makes them swoon, who can fault her tan, she glides without throne, in bars full of huwers, she'd rather be alone, nothing’s quite by chance, her eyes are ruined, but everything comes to pass, barefoot she raises a laugh, what can they do to her, with hard countenance, strange in these ocean towns, these faded boozers, no sight of her crown, only the sewer.