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?
