Storyteller: It has been a month since that night And no one knows his whereabouts Her tender heart now twisted irrecoverably To keep their secret shut
The Girl: I keep hearing the echoes of my frailty Never knowing what comes next It haunts me over and over in my dreams Ostensibly, my dying crest
The Girl, The teacher & Choir: There are no other explanations Prevarication led to death As we try to find some comfort We only find ourselves
Storyteller: Those secrets are never easy to keep And doubt encloses her to an end Little did she know about A little boy’s revenge
The Girl: Can I? The teacher: Can you? The girl & The teacher: Keep a secret to yourself?
The girl: I must be going insane I can’t recall the things he’s done I don’t deny the things I’m being told, But am I really just a pawn?