From the recording WRITTEN IN STONE

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Well, she was half past pretty,
On her way to stopping time,
In a town without pity,
Where beauty is a crime.

He was one-quarter crazy,
Well on his way to insane.
He swore one of these days he
Would end this silly game.

I recall the day they met
By that waterfront café.
He said, "You're thirsty, I'll bet!"
She said, "I'll have a crème latté.

I'm not sure if the lightning
Was brought on by the passing storm,
Or something much more frightening
Was beginning to take form.

He reached out to touch her hand;
She didn't pull it away.
She felt the burn of the brand,
The mark of the beast that day.

A single dark cloud hovers
Over where they sat that day,
As two more star-crossed lovers
Slowly head this way.

Now, I'm not sure if this lightning
Is brought on by this passing storm,
Or something much more frightening
Is beginning to take form.

Must be something Juliet.

Copyright © 2012 Lex Zaleta