O' the rotting flesh,

the greased down curly locks,

snow white skin I know the best.

The smell of decay wafting-

like a ballerina's delicate dance-

across the tiled floor.

Permanantly closed eyes-

never to see again-

O' do you terrify.

The world beat down on you

Didn't it?

Realeasing the hounds to lacerate

your skin.

Pummeling your spirit,

Tearing out your soul,

corrupting your happiness,

So you're depressed until you're old.

They did this to you?

Didn't they?

Well, now they cna't harm you,

You've pur yourself inside

a sheilded mahogany box

and now you can't breathe.

Are you happy now?

How could you do this to me?