[Lyric] Her It (John Berryman)

I fell in love with a girl
O and a gash
I'll bet she now has seven lousy children
(I've three myself, one being off the record.)

I wish she'd read my book & write to me
From O wherever ah how far she is
After all, I get letters from anybody
From hers, I'd tear to the 'phone

It's not now near at all the end of winter
I have to fly off East to sing a poem
Admirers, some, will surge up afterward
I'll keep an eye out for her

My tough Songs well in Tokyo & Paris
Fall under scrutiny. My publishers
Very friendly in New York & London
Forward me elephant cheques

Time magazine yesterday slavered Saul's ass
They pecked at mine last year. We're going strong!
Photographs all over!
She muttered something in my ear I've forgotten as we danced