You're broken,
left in the garden.
You're hurt,
you bleed in your nightshirt.
Let's play a game,
of what you've became.
With your glass-eyed
you surely can hide,
And when you shriek
that's when I will seek.
of what you've became.
With your glass-eyed
you surely can hide,
And when you shriek
that's when I will seek.
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