Two people meet and both make a friend With hope that it will never end An ogre comes in a jealous fit And this friendship, tries to break it It’s easier for me to make it sound like a fantasy Because it’s better than dealing with the reality That a person could be this hell bent In destroying my new found environment Now the friends, they have a choice Should they listen to the ogre’s voice Or do they hold on tighter still Because this friendship it can’t kill It’s easier for me to make it sound like a fantasy Because it’s better than dealing with the reality That a person could be this hell bent In destroying my new found environment Two friends in a story, two side by side, An ogre came calling, there was nowhere to hide. He scaled the rampart and battered the door, But the castle grew stronger than ever before. He wanted the destruction, he wanted control, To tear us apart and leave at least one alone. But this isn’t his story, whatever he says, We’ll write our own happy ever after instead. Will there end up being some sort of satisfying end? Surely, that is up to us, not him, my friend Two friends in a story, two side by side, An ogre came calling, there was nowhere to hide. He scaled the rampart and battered the door, But the castle grew stronger than ever before. He wanted the destruction, he wanted control, To tear us apart and leave at least one alone. But this isn’t his story, whatever he says, We’ll write our own happy ever after instead. So let the ogre shout outside in the rain, Let him tell his chronicle again and again. He can shout at the windows, he can shake every wall, But he doesn’t decide where the pages will fall. Two friends in a story, and this much we know: An ogre can threaten, but he can’t make us go. So close up the book, let the final phrase end— The ogre’s not the story, The story was about my friend.
