Ezekiel Faye wasn't like other young men his age.
No, he was different and odd all the same, and in his left leg he was a little bit lame.
His skin was pale, his eyes a ghastly gray.
He rarely left his house, that is until one lonely day.
Arising at seven, so early in the morn he made his way to the lane of Happy and Fleet.
Though, this time his gait was fair.
And did he really brush his messy hair?
His eyes were know blue,
such a wonderful hue.
Then as quick as he did come,
He made his way back to his home.
For days did pass, and no one dare ask "Where is Ezekiel this fine day?"
It had seemed fair Ezekiel had gone away.
Then one Autumn eve, when the clouds had turned gray,
There was a somber sadness in the House of Faye.
It had seemed his body was found,
the bone now visible all around.
They laid him there in the graveyard of Merryweather, beneath that live oak tree.
The day was as sad as it possibly could be.
A month came to pass, so did many more.
Then one fine evening, the dust was removed from the Faye door.
Ezekiel appeared, happy and true.
"But Ezekiel, could this really be you?"
"No," he says with a sad, sad frown.
"They laid poor Ezekiel to rest far down."
A time came to pass again when Ms. Faye came to town.
When asked about her son, she said he was a fine man.
"But what about the other, Ezekiel's twin?"
"Ezekiel has only a sister, but no brother.
The man you did see however,
was Ezekiel the Other."