• Am I mad?
    Are you?
    How can this be?
    I know ‘tis true

    Surely there is a reason for this
    A reason for why she is dead
    Yes, of course, I know ‘tis true
    For I have always said

    There is a pattern to randomness
    I know ‘tis true
    Look at me—no knife, no blood
    Look at her with no life—dead . . . and you?

    Aha! I know ‘tis true
    Why she is so dead
    Why the sky is indeed blue
    It is as plain as that loaf of bread

    I have taken over her
    And soon, I will do the same to you
    I will get them all for sure
    It has already begun; there is nothing you can do