The Chair

I'm looking down the hole you're looking up at me you're cold and Tired that is easy to see lower a rope to you a bucket on the Line your membrane will be soft And smooth and your heart will be mine It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again. Yes precious it gets the hose The look inside your eyes drives me out of control evil convictions Of my favorite casserole and if I eat your heart I'll also bite Your soul and when I'm done with that I'll use your skull as a bowl. It's puts the lotion in the basket The night is very cold I'm feeling kind of weak I think I'll make my Self a cap from your right buttocks cheek And then I will go walking with my little dog. And then I'll bury you underneath a log