Shiny gloss spread over her lips,
Silky robes wound round her hips.
The little girl, she ran all over the place,
The mirrors, played with reflections of her face.
Transperent walls exposed the world outside,
Her face turned red for she was on the wrong side.
The stairs were mazes, but all led to a final door,
And it was locked, serving a defeat at fore.
O! she’s the girl in the glass tower,
Who is searching for a new power.
She’s the girl in the glass tower,
Who is shining but a bland flower.
Her prayers answered, the doors were unlocked,
She ran to the other side with her flag unfurled.
Chains were cut loose, but truth was naked,
This world was always drenched with the wicked.
The ground beneath loved to subside,
The ways were all blocked and she couldn’t hide.
Sucked into this muddy pool of woes,
Where fear of freedom only grows.
O! she’s the girl escaped from glass tower,
Whose fortress was shaken by the demons.
She’s the girl escaped from glass tower,
Stung by the bees that made lust.
The flag she wavered was torn,
She returned to her world called forlorn,
You still shine like a bland flower,
There will be a day that turns you sweet.
But the bees of lust, hungry to fill their combs,
Hover around for pieces of your petals.
What can you do with your minute power?
Glance from the creeks of your ruined tower?
O! you poor girl in the glass tower,
Broken mirrors are your lovers.
O! you poor girl in the glass tower.
Prisoned in this gaol for loners.
