An August day in the hills of Spain, a pair of children emerged from a cave. 

The strangest sight there alone they stood,
with skin of green and words no one had heard.
The girl was stronger, the boy was weak,
with her new mother she learned to speak.
And wove a tale of a dying sun, they had left darkness,
a dark world come undone.
They travelled so far. Believing they came from a star.
She fell through life, through time, through parallel lives.
The men of science, the men of fame, the men of letters tried to explain:
Was it parallel worlds or a twist of time to make her
think she'd fallen from the sky?
A whirlwind spun them all alone, took them from their twilight home.
Believing they came from a star.


In the quiet morning 

There was much despair
And in the hours that followed
No one could repair

That poor girl
Tossed by the tides of misfortune
Barely here to tell her tale
Rolled in on a sea of disaster
Rolled out on a mainline rail

She once walked tight at my side
I'm sure she walked by you
Her striding steps could not deny
Torment from a child who knew

That in the quiet morning
There would be despair
And in the hours that followed
No one could repair

That poor girl
She cried out her song so loud
It was heard the whole world round
A symphony of violence
The great southwest unbound