27 May 2012
*brief warning*
Sing a song of sixpence, A knife gash down your thigh,
Four and twenty poisons, Baked into a pie,
When the pie was opened, You took a nice, big bite,
Oh, seeing your body on the ground, Was such a pleasant sight.
Your mother's in her counting house, Counting all her money.
Your father's in his bedroom, tasting some girl's honey.
Your brother's in his chambers, entertaining whores...
No one seems to care, but me, that you lie on the floors!
Sing A Song Of... Sixpence. • Opuss № I