Oh! The garnished gold! The sweet scent of silver
For ne’er were soft fingers deprived of coinage
And my lovely face; oh the goddess herself
Reveled in my silky darkened skin; candid lips;
Precise eyelashes – once, I had it all. I had it all! Ha!
And even had I the ripened blessing of fruitful freedom.

But have what I now?
Neither money nor happiness. Nor belonging
The freedom that ensnares me; I cannot do without
I have nothing. I have nothing!
For that white man came in seductive domination
His voice boomed with status and wealth
Swiftly revealing his cocky pistol; resplendent
Oh! For it was shiny and swept me away
For how do white men make such lovely metals?
It glistened and gleamed; reflected my beautiful face.
How lovely! The metallic ridges I fingered;
The metalwork sensationalizing my raw skin

But lo! Behold! Where now am I?
For that wealth and beauty gone.
My virgin lands soiled aggressively.
My wealth and happiness robbed.
For the white man stole that, too.
Stole everything! But nay! I mustn't be so unpleasant.
I have a lovely (oh so lovely!) pistol.

Nay, but there is a girl, plain but dandy, lovely. I suppose.
In all his glory and seduction, resist, girl.
For the world is ever in your favor
Run with the Spring breeze, tidy your stockings
Feel the oceanic undulations, the trembling earth; say no, love.
Please, please just look. Look at the lilies
How the wild flower grows.
Do not marry.

What say you? Beware the white man
What say you? Beware him like the black plague
Consuming your dead-beaten heart
Squelching your organs with thirsty lust
Manipulating your soul with frank "sincerity"
But loving you while you will hate him.
Hold! I mustn't despise. I have the pistol, the beautiful pistol.

But all for not!
For what have I now! -
But to pine in confined isolation (oh but what lovely a pistol!)
Nay! Resist, Love. The metalwork my face shining through
My wretched, peeling skin; Rotted with smite

Jane, lovely Jane. It is just a pistol.