Last thing I remember, I was running for the door.
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.
"Relax," said the night man, "We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!"
-The Eagles (Hotel California)
. . .
Wind the little music box up, let it play its little song. The music is a comfort to the strings that hold me down. My strings are reminders, one for each time I found something wrong with myself during the time I was bound to earth like you. I am not perfect little child, when I was alive I was never in control of my situation. In you, I see suffering of the same fates, but you will never understand the pain I will forever be in. I have saved them and what thanks do I get? They are all sinners, they still have time to repent. Who am I but a lawyer to save my guilty party from the judge?
Keep my little music box playing child, this song can never end. If for one moment my song ends, all of us shall too. I keep them alive, I keep their souls bound before judgment day and if our song ends then it is all over. We must keep the sinners on earth, child, so that they will have time to repent before the Lord wants them again. I am no different- but I can admit it.
Go now child, the night man is here to watch over me. I have no problems sending him to the Lord, he is not blameless like you. Go now child, the clock is ticking...