Now She's a Little Boy in Spain, Playing Pianos Filled With Flames

Her psyche is a citadel

Where every room has a tale to tell

The dragon will protect from strife

As it slams the door on life.

These old dilapidated walls

Crammed with the bleeding hearts of all

Who dared to bring her home again

And remembered at last, who, when...

Now she's a little boy in Spain

Playing pianos filled with flames

Imagination has its say

Only her dragon knows her name.


And now we must accept the fact

She will never be like us

Let her wander alone

Forgetting why brings consequence.


She's skewered on the dragon's tail

Surveying this great citadel

Guarding against trespassing men

Who dare to bring her home again.

Down desolate roads far away

She laughed and sang and cried for days

Things grow old and how they change

But somehow always stay the same.

The End

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