Homage to Amy Winehuses song "Valerie"

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    Homage to Amy Winehuses song "Valerie"

    Well sometimes I go out

    by myself

    and I dip down in the watah'

    and I reminisce

    on what ya' did

    to me when we were both youngah'

    and in my head I paint a pictchah'

    cause

    since ya come home from school

    ya' room has been a mess

    and I miss the way you sway your hips and your creative style' of dress'

    wont ya' come on ovah'

    stop making a fool out of mehy'

    why don't ya' come on over Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    it sucks that ya' had to go to jail

    put ya' house on up for' sale

    I know a good lawyah'

    I hope ya' aint' gottta sleep in ah' tent

    I know ya' got ah' good maan'

    whom ya' fancy fo' ya'

    are ya' shoppin' anywhere

    I see that ya' changed the style of ya' hair

    are ya' busy

    did ya' have to pay that fine

    tha' one ya been ducking' all this time

    payings' easy

    since ya come home from school

    ya' room has been a mess

    and I miss the way you sway your hips and your creative style' of dress'

    wont ya' come on ovah'

    stop making a fool out of mehy'

    why don't ya' come on ovah Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Well sometimes I go out

    by myself

    and I dip down in the water

    and I reminisce

    on what ya' did

    to me when we were both youngah'

    and in my head I paint a pictchah'

    cause

    since ya come home from school

    ya' room has been a mess

    and I miss the way you sway your hips and your creative style' of dress'

    wont ya' come on ovah'

    stop making a fool out of mehy'

    why don't ya' come on ovah' Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    mhmm' Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    ah' Kelleey'

    Kelleey'

    why don't ya' come on ovah' Kelley'
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Kelley is the given name of my biological younger sister

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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