Today's installment:
Come away with me, into the woods
The path is no place for little girls
Can’t you see where it leads?
An old toothless spinster, helpless in bed
Worn out, torn down, by hard work and age
Is that where you want to go?
Is that who you want to be?
Wouldn’t it be better
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This bit is particularly striking:
Or the sharp tang of fresh blood on your tongue,
Ten times sweeter than custard.
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