the yellow light is shining now
calling roaches towards her
she can hear the children cry
swollowing the rotten dirt

her dolls are dirty, stained with blood,
the yellow roaches come now closer,
she thinks they're near, but they're too far,
she thinks of nothing but to eat them

one child is sinking in the dirt,
she's sure he won't get his wings;
so, i tell you, that, by dawn,
me, and her, will dance in spit.