They come in at night when all is still
they scrape away and run and steal
my happiness and pleasure
They see it as their treasure.
Down, down, down they go into the hole
where time stops and no body knows
what ever did happen to her?
there is no magical, amazing cure
shes but a carcass of glass
that lays in bed, all but her relax.
they whisper and taunt at her expense
they paid a little more than six-pence
to a doctor who's more intelligent than all
gets a scalpel and out he calls "Kerrigan!
are you there? Can you hear me?" Once again
shes stuck in her own body, forever a slave
not even the toughest or the most brave
would dare go through what she deals
on a day to day basis that almost-no, does, steal
her away from the world and into her own
where there is no whispered looks or any condone
In their voices of her loved ones, there are
no episodes or acting out. There,
according to her; who fakes her way through,
There is only her and you.