this is the story of a modern day cassandra who suspects her own prodigy. |
Little Cassey they called bastard lass How sweet, how lovely, how pure she was With stars in eyes she scampered high Recalling Late Ma’s ‘Never Lie’ She was the town’s children’s chief Her words for all would mean belief Her innocence brought her love and fame How pretty she was growing a dame As spread her prodigy longer still They made their fate what she would will Her words were seen the Angel’s light Her wrong was wrong her right was right Then starting from just a petty joke The demon of doubt slowly woke Posing if people’s right was so Wondering how they ever could know Big and small they told them lies They took her words with blind eyes And when she said she wasn’t right All she got was somber quiet No way she saw except to do Whatever would make her lies true Ending in tears every night Facing the music bringing plight One evening she took a jolly lad They all watched as she called him dead They did believe and questioned life Throwing her in the utmost strife She failed her will to drown them dead And they won’t let her die instead In chilling cold and stormy rain She fled and was never seen again |