It hadn’t been an easy year.
The little girl who you held so dear
Had made it pretty clear she couldn’t stand ya.
Oh, teenage love’s a tricky thing.
You only sought to clip her wings
To fling away a threat to Alexandra.

Alexandra, Alexandra. Alexandra, Alexandra.

Defiantly, you had made her yours.
You snatched her from the out-of-doors
Though wars were fought and Widmore would’ve banned ya.
And yet it was your choice to spare
The child and leave her mother there,
Despairingly imploring, “Alexandra!”

Alexandra, Alexandra. Alexandra, Alexandra.

Steering her to the secret spot,
You sought some solace in the thought
She’d not be caught by those who would demand ya.
But Keamy brought her back home to you.
Now your mind games wouldn’t do,
And you knew that you had lost your Alexandra.

Alexandra, Alexandra. Alexandra, Alexandra.

The mercenary called your bluff.
You loved her, Ben, but not enough.
You gruffly said the isle would reprimand ya.
In the dead of night, your darkest dreams
Were littered with the tortured screams
Of Keamy’s lily victim, Alexandra.

Alexandra, Alexandra. Alexandra, Alexandra.

You were traumatized at first
And, haunted by your last outburst,
You cursed the man accustomed to command ya.
But the blameless blood that was freely spilt
Then forged in you a transforming guilt,
So you built a life to honor Alexandra.

Alexandra, Alexandra. Alexandra, Alexandra.
Alexandra, Alexandra. Alexandra, Alexandra.