She died one hundred times
\nOne hundred times too many
\nShe never said good bye to me
\nOr possibly to any
\nOne expecting ever, that she would
\nGo away
\nThat Her life would just be over
\nTo Camden she would say<\/p>\n
A sweet brush of mascara
\nSwept upwards to the sky
\nHer right hand in her pocket
\nAnd possibly she’d sigh
\nHer blue eyes her audaciousness
\nHer courage from within
\nBack to black’s true clarity
\nAll part of her spin<\/p>\n
I died a hundred times she sang
\nBelief was not in me
\nShe unlocked the inevitable
\nWe watched it flying free
\nCoerced by inhibitions
\nSubdued in a refrain
\nShe cast off all her shackles
\nAnd marched into the rain<\/p>\n
An open purse she proffered
\nA donor to the fore
\nHer voice was always plenteous
\nDrawn up from her core
\nEndurance she did manifest
\nA light that shone so bright
\nWith such unction and such eagerness
\nShe put the world to right<\/p>\n
We shall never forget you Dear Amy Winehouse<\/p>\n
NEVER x<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
She died one hundred times One hundred times too many She never said good bye to me Or possibly to any One expecting ever, that she would Go away That Her life would just be over To Camden she would … Continue reading