StoryTelling
I wasn’t going to tell you, but the story had to be told
about how I went from a wallflower, to silly and bold
It all started with a glimpse of the face
and all of the little replies in kind
so I had to put someone on the case
someone with an investigative mind
and hope they could keep up with your pace
I looked high and low, and all I could find
was an unusual character by the name of Ayse
and so I pushed forward, half-cocked and half-blind
some clues I deciphered, but his efforts were slowed
Seven Spanish Angels, the Body Violin, he wasn’t sold
Ayse went overboard with tales of conspiracy
all of his rantings didn’t really convince me
something about messages in the art
and taking over the world in an alien way
he told me the sign was a brand on the heart
I tried not to gasp, lest I give it away
an alien takeover in which I unwittingly played a part
and he told me their leader won’t tolerate strays
but I have a secret, I’m not the only one who’s marked
a scar in scarlet, shhh, it’s a big letter “A”
and now the game’s over, or so it seems
The government stoppage, a twisted power play
The lack of words, and what they all mean
and the superheroine still saving the day
something broken inside, I won’t pay to be seen
I keep hold of something, but what I wont say
I suppose I will keep waiting, a boy and his dream