the streets of Camden still mourn music 

royalty, the queen who lived too much,

soared too high, near to the scorching sun 

where only the mad and geniuses fly.

and twenty seven arrived too soon, 

before your time but time enough to tattoo 

yourself on hearts and minds. On that day

I heard the legend of Sarah Vaughan cry.

and wandering into Stables Market I hear 

you breathing from a bronze statue that echoes

your raw, sweet sound and everything that 

is you, hand on hip, beehive, the pose of

the pained Queen of Camden who now 

shines with the spirits in the sky. Amy, 

forgive me but I have to ask, if by chance 

you see Marvin, could you tell him I said hi?