I tell a tale of a funny mirror with a perfect frame around it The mirror fell out of the sky, in the boy's backyard it grounded He took a look into the glass but in his face's place Like a stowaway in fresh-cut grass, lay Mary, Full of Grace The priestess opened up her eyes to meet the prince's gaze She whispered: Will my looks suffice? Do they compromise? Amaze? He answered: If they compromise me, do them what they please I wish to be forsaken, goddess, take me on my knees He didn't know what laid behind the glass The distorted reflection that gave him attention he craved The curves in the mirror that skewed all the hues he had seen in the past You never know what sort of wonders can lie in your face An overwhelming feeling made him quiver to the core His outstretched hand met only glass, his heart sunk to the floor She fogged the pane with liar's breath and wrote with dainty thumb I go to see the opera every night, love You should come Reinvocation of a harlot soul we've faced And never erased, forever conditioned Would you agree (Would I ever) To being permanently pushed along the path to perdition If the thought heard 'round the world Through the young boy's heart should fly Would he pick himself back up again Or curse us all and die Does this conflict of interest concern us all Do you change to bridge the distance, change to break your fall I am asleep, I will not wake up These dreams are merging now with waking hours, I've had enough When the time to make definitive decisions is at hand Will the pre-pubate participate and make himself a man Does the weight of the debacle add to shackles we accept The gullible is malleable, the skeptic is inept