my dead dollie walks the streets at night
broken stiches and glittening knife
tiny little foot prints trailed in blood
leaving chaos were innocence stood
my wolf sewn up in sheeps clothing
stuffed with cotton and self loathing
with mitten hands and button eyes
a mouth sewn out of spoken lies
into your shadowed room she'll creep
and sing you lullabies untill you sleep
she will curl up next to you in bed
when heavy seems to fall your head
the blade so sharp no pain you'll feel
then out into the night she'll steal
to the next child with sleeping breath
whom she'd love to love to death
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