• I see through the Dreamers eye
    No ones soul is quite dead as mine
    I am like a ragdoll. All quiet and dead
    No love left, only loose thread
    slowly rotting in the corner upstairs
    You get to live, How is that fair?
    I've no little girl left to comb my pretty hair
    You get to live, How is that fair?
    I'll sit in my corner and glare with evil eyes
    sitting here thinking, plotting demise
    A chuckle errupts and echoes throughout
    A look of shock as your screams come out
    You slowly approach and finally look at me
    You scream aloud as I smile with glee
    Your pretty little doll that you left for dead
    Has come to place a curse on your head