The Magic Box

Let me tell you a story about
The little girl who lived in The Magic Box.
With buttons for eyes,
And her dark woollen locks.

Her tale is not told often,
But somehow everyone can hear.
Everyone laughs,
But no one sheds a tear.

People pass the story on,
But the words become twisted.
Words begin to hurt,
And she wishes she never existed.

She cuts her cotton skin,
Then stitches herself together again.
She needs to feel love,
But she only knows pain.

One day she met the boy
Who lived in The Magic Box.
With buttons for eyes,
And his dark woollen locks.

Her tale is told to him,
And he is silent as he hears.
He tells her it’s ok,
And wipes away her tears.

People pass the story on,
And the words become twisted.
This time they’re not heard,
It’s like they never existed.

They paint their cotton skin,
Then chase away the rain.
They give each other love,
And they share each other’s pain.

Let me tell you a story about
The Magic Box.
With their buttons for eyes,
And their dark woollen locks.