we’ve heard the tales since we were young, heard the songs that have been sung about an evil spell. someone beautiful is cursed, we feel sad through every verse. til a kiss and all is well. the message that no one can see, is clearer to someone like me.. there is no curse or evil spell, that’s worse than one we give ourselves. there is no sorcerer as cruel as the proud, angry fool. and yet we cry ‘life isn’t fair,’ beneath our cries the truth is there. the power that will break the spell, we should know very well, is locked within ourselves. yet we’d rather blame, and curse our fate then change. we run from everyone to hide from the pain… and all the shame.. the story’s old, we know it well. about a wretched, evil spell. the power that will break this curse, oh i know all too well, is locked within myself.
