The pink half-moon on the third joint of my slender finger--
My body fragments are full of bread.
That's why I fear holding bread is why I'm here.
I seem to have lost my hands around here.
And where my eyes were,
now only holes appear
(We're now only holes up here.)
Look at me up here!
Thank God for the laws of physics.
Thank God for the law.
A skinny skinny boy complains.
My body takes up too much room.
This makes me laugh.
I hold myself back. I hold myself back.
I could crush you with my weight, smash your little body down,
throw you through the window pane, bloody lifeless on the ground.
A skinny skinny boy is dead.