“Pretty puppet, made of skin, cracked a smile, let me in. Strings all snapped, she tried to run, but cutting limbs is half the fun. Snip-snap arms, twisty legs, hang her high on butcher pegs. Paint her lips with crimson red, tell her to hush, or lose her head. Pretty puppet, cry no more, you were broken long before. One more stitch, and you’ll be mine, my broken doll, my sweetest crime.”
