Over your shoulder, please don't mind me if my eyes have
fallen onto your magazine for I've been watching and wondering why
your face is changing with every line you read. All those lines
and circles, to me, a mystery. Eve pull down the apple and give
taste to me. If she would be wonderful, but my pride is in the
way. I cannot read to save my life, I'm so ashamed to say.
I live in silence, afraid to speak of my life of
darkness because I cannot read. For all those lines and circles,
to me, a mystery. Eve pull down the apple and give taste to me.
If she could it would be wonderful. Then I wouldn't need someone
else's eyes to see what's in front of me. No one guiding me.
It makes me humble to be so green at what every kid can
do when he learns A to Z, but all those lines and circles just
frighten me and I fear that I'll be trampled if you don't reach
for me. Before I run I'll have to take a fall. And then pick
myself up, so slowly I'll devour every one of those books in the
Tower of Knowledge.
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.
