The Black Matilda

By the windy shores o Canada bay I broke my fast for Lucia's day,

A beguiling figure she blew my way & rattled me rovin' heart,

The snipers crack, the metronome of pricy heels on polished stone,

That I were soon to call my own by way o' the ancient art.

I were cozened by a whiff-o-the-whim that scours the Costa harryin',