Family favorite, eight years old "Girl, do what you're told!" Sara sadly repeats her dreams Dad wants company, it seems Once more, his whispered warning "You'll not tell a soul come morning!" She reaches, deeply, a strange night's sleep Swirling spirits creep Their dance surrounds her with frenzied cries "Girl, come forward and claim your prize!" Smeared with the strangest feeling And a vengeful pa**ion congealing She awakens, charged with their song "Dad! I need you! Come here, please! I swear it won't take long!" As Dad comes in, Sara smiles and bites clean through his skin Now he screams, his booming voice is rising in his fall By the time he hits the floor, he's just another doll Cluttering the rug "Hey, Dad! Come on over here now, and give your girl a hug!" As Dad runs, frantically, towards the door Clutching, blindly, his curious sore Sara snatches him by the thigh And holds him up to her judging eye Casting a final ballot Now she grabs an iron mallet And holds it over his tiny legs Dad stares, horrified, as he begs But Sara smugly ignores his pleas And smashes down with a violent breeze With every bit that she hits she's willed To strike again till his end is filled