What chance does one have

When they’re born in jail?

She’ll trick

Just a child herself

Tell me, what is it that’s got your attention?

Yes, her neck

Reach out and touch it

Fantasize, child, fantasize…

You dusty old Cemetery worker

Transforming into something…

Strangling for thirty years

Nobody seemed to notice

Ninety three women would die

Ninety three…

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