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
