Holy fucking shit, I had forgotten all about Marcy Playground. I used to love them. I listend to their self-titled album, the one with this very fucking song, at least a million times. I had forgotten, or never really consciously registered, that they have a bunch of songs just right for science fiction mix tape.
“A cloaking robe of elvenkind hangs in my wardrobe behind all those things that mother said weren’t proper for a boy.”
“Sixteen books on magic spells, stacked below the cloak of eleves.”
There isn’t much of a story here, more of a snapshot of a boy who likes elves and magic and probably plays D&D, but whose mom is all “grow the fuck up and stop writing in your journal in elvish.”