See, look. There it goes. That shriveling thing. Yeah, there it goes writhing. Like a wet worm on a hot sidewalk. It burns and squirms. There it is, drying up into a corpse. It's almost there. My soul. Leave it be. Turn away, it's starting to get ugly. Plug your ears. Don't hear it scream. It will curl your veins into knots. Boy, it doesn't go without a fight. There it goes trying to drag its body and muster it up into being again. Useless. Hopeless. How sad. Leave it be. Just turn away.