She was beautiful.
It was a kind of beauty no one notices, no ones sees.
Day after day, she went to school, made the grades,
To go home and play.
She got home and played and played,
Until her fingers couldn’t take it any longer.
This girl was gorgeous.
No one saw her. No one knew her past.
She was different.
She was different, but who cares?
She kept her head down, kept going along.
She was content.
He didn’t know her.
He didn’t see,
Why would he ever notice her beauty?
He has had own problems, the pills, the cigarettes.
He played and played just to get by.
Thank God he had fingers to keep him alive.
They went their separate ways, they went home and played.
They played their secret songs, and that’s how it stayed.