One, two, three, four.
Walk, walk, walk, walk.
Fake, fake, fake, fake.
Must be p e r f e c t.
Not being perfect = death.
Must not d i s a p p o i n t.
Disappointing = alone.
What's your favourite number?
Four, four, four, four.
Yes, yes, yes, yes.
He moved out.
Now all alone.
No one to judge me or laugh at me or point fingers at me.
Alone, alone, all alone, sweetly all alone.
They thought I was ill.
Ill, ill, ill, i l l.
I laughed.
They were s o funny.
Ha ha ha ha
D a y s went on.
It got worse.
Germs were e v e r y w h e r e.
So gross, gross, gross, nastily gross.
Everything MUST be clean.
otherwise i would d i e.
Doors were next.
Ward off the sprits.
Spirits, the spirits, spirits, the demonic spirits.
Open doors one, two, three, four
Then going in.
Closing the same way.
Shoes in right order.
M u s t be or I die.
Die, die, DIE, D I E
M U S T be P e r f e c t.
Then the Voices.
'You aren't doing it right.'
'Do it Perfectly!'
I ' m s o r r y.
'FIX IT'
'You are a disappointment.'
H e l p m e.
'Go die'
'You deserve to be punished.'
P l e a s e s t o p t h e m.
Am I turning into H I M?
'Fix everything'
'What's your favourite number?'
(One, two, three, four.
Talk, talk, talk, talk.
Pain. pain, pain, pain.)
It's four.
Yes it's four.
One, two, three, four I DIE