The French Lieutenant's Woman

I wanted... I wanted more... You ask me why I stand here On the edge of stone and facing the sea Am I a living memorial to the drowned and dead? Or, as the rumors say Looking for the man who stained and left me? I’m here for the comfort In this perfect isolation Leaning into the gale The waters wild and untamable Like me Indifferent to their rules And their morality I have a freedom you can not understand No insult, no blame, can touch me... I have set myself beyond the pale Feel the pounding ocean Taste the stinging salt of freedom Listen to the storm wail... I am content among the wet and wind Leave me be I know that if I left here I should become a wife I should become a mother I should be an ordinary woman But I wish to be what I am Not what they want of me Buried alive, a wooden puppet or machine Shackled down by a golden ring I didn’t want the cage Even if gilded I refused the restriction I wanted more... I wanted more... The chance came and so I reached out to grab it Hesitated - but it didn’t matter The story was set in motion Their story of shame and blame... They thought to brand me with disgrace But didn’t anticipate I would take it And wear it boldly Like a cloak wrapped around me I put it on me and walked through the woods Past the spying eyes Full of disdain and outrage! And I strode upon the shore Straight to this stony isolation on the edge but still in their vision Finding cold cold solace in the oceans spray I wanted more I wanted more So I became what they abhor (I am not to be understood) I wanted more I wanted more So I lived the lie (I am not to be understood) And I became what they swore I was The French Lieutenant’s woman… The French Lieutenant’s whore…