My faults are now the opposite of sin.
For I was taught that women never swore.
Yet is this but a private world I’m in,
Where women love and men, at least ,adore?
No language Anglo-Saxon did we hear
Ensuring we thought not what “fuck” might mean.
Was it related to good luck yet freer?
My mind throws up a lark in moorland scene
The man who was my father greatly loved;
And often sang us into sleep and dreams.
But sadly from this life he was removed.
Leaving me accursed wtrh blocked out screams .
Today I tell my tale in my own tongue
Translated into melody and song
