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Looking out the window I hear the sweet soulful cry from Levi Stubbs. Singing out his passionate love to this woman called bernadette. Wishisng that I was her, wishing I had a man that sang to me so sweetly. Praying that no matter what I did in life I would never stop loving him deeply. Bernadette held the soul of a brown skin goddess, he knew she accepted his solitude of strength regardless of the malnutritioned bottomless pit found within his wallet. Some days I wish I was named Bernadette, she had a heart of melted Gold that stuck to the root of your vessels like a disease. A wise woman that held strength and did as she pleased. I never held the power to have anyone see that true love within me, maybe one day Bernadettes spirit will find itself and proclaim me.
