Undercover

Field commander Ronen was our most devoted spy

As early as the sandbox she learned how to fake a cry

Always watching, studying

How children play and talk

The head tilt of their carefree laugh

The skip inside their walk

Oh my love,

Don't be mad,

Don't be sad

But this person you see

She isn't me.

Then growing up, too, for some reason

She has always been

A little far, a little

On the outside looking in

Then came the boys

She knew just what they wanted her to be

A manic pixie listener

All sweet and wild and free

Oh my love,

Don't be mad,

Don't be sad

But this person you see

She isn't me.

And when we drafted her as spy

At the ripe age of eighteen

(Which hasn't normally been news people have foreseen)

She just calmly listened

Then, as certain as a knife

She whispered

I've been undercover all my life

Oh my love,

Don't be mad,

Don't be sad

But this person you see

She isn't me.

Field commander Ronen got so good at blending in

At some point we no longer told the wall paint from her skin

So it took us quite a while

To discover she was gone

We don't know where she is now

But I heard she's writing songs.