There was once a parade:
a stage of pride, lies, strings attached.
Strange. Strange as it seemed.
And there was once a lad;
a little man who stood for his hatred,
his crumbled dreams all shattered;
a spider that crunched its victims,
never scared of the eyes of the grim.

There was once a parade:
a nice, mesmerizing flash of masquerade
where all you could see was nothing
but the face of a buried evil,
remaining still in the heart of a little boy;
smashing, scratching all over his door.

But never once did he dare
to step aside and share
all the little things the evil had sworn
to get a bite, a taste, a little part of his own.

O’dear little boy, little, little boy.
It was never his to toy
with all the malicious curses and black mirrors,
the malevolent hearts with dirtiest cores.

And so they crushed him whole,
the ***** skanks and their dolls,
puppets that were once his to call;
smashed him, scratched him, tore him,
until his eyes was no more recognized for its black beam.