I'm doing it. I got out of the bedroom when they locked me in to leave to go to the store. I've gotten onto Bill's computer. I've got everything ready.
I've got all weekend. I've got all their food and all their knives and all his belts.
It's their turn to hurt.
You'd better make your face up in your favorite disguise
With your button-down lips and your roller-blind eyes
With your empty smile and your hungry heart
Feel the bile rising from your guilty past
With your nerves in tatters as the cockle-shell shatters
And the hammers batter down your door
You better run
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