This is the story of your red right ankle
And how it came to meet your leg
And how the muscles, bone, and sinews tangled
And how it’s skin was softly shed

And how it whispered, “Oh, adhere to me,
For we are bound by symmetry.
Whatever differences our lives have been
We together make a limb.”
This is the story of your red right ankle.

This is the story of your gypsy uncle
You never knew ‘cause he was dead
And how his face was carved and rift with wrinkles
In the picture in your head.

And remember how you found the key
To his hideout in the Pyrenees.
But you wanted to keep his secret safe
So you threw the key away.
This is the story of your gypsy uncle.

This is the story of the boys who loved you,
Who love you now and loved you then.
And some were sweet and some were cold and snuffed you,
And some just laid around in bed.

Some had crumbled you straight to your knees.
Did it cruel, did it tenderly.
Some had crawled their way into your heart
To rend your ventricles apart.
This is the story of the boys who loved you.
This is the story of your red right ankle.