One time
you made me cry
be proud that I
remember
my chin is sore
the bruise is gone
but the spot is tender
gave my hand a sister coy
to Cotton Alley where
you did enjoy
your wicked games
you curious boy
tied my laces up together
when I fell
you laughed
until your belly was sore
in the brick laid aisle behind
the five and dime store
that's how
I made you blush
but doubt if you
remember
were my tears genuine
or thoes of a skilled
pretender
nothing precious
plain to see
don't make a fuss over me
not loud
not soft
but somewhere in between
say sorry
let it be
the word you mean
I was a little pest who
never took a hint
could never
take a hint
you pinched my fingers
in a door
tossed my coloring book in a
rusty barrel
pulled spiders from my hair
fingers in the door
my favorite blue blouse
stained on the back
running from a berry war
can you hear me scream
in Cotton Alley
scream in Cotton Alley
in Cotton Alley
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.