Molten Vole

No. 1, Ginger Lane

Putting us in here was heartless
Left to fend in total darkness
There is no reprieve
Can't use candles
No door handles
To leave

Kissing my wife on her gingerbread lips
But I'd rather flesh
We can fetch canes, but they go to my hips
This life is a mess

Gingerbread head
Gingerbread legs
I have a pet rat that's made of gingerbread dregs

The roof's sickly frosting drips in
Someone has slipped in the kitchen
Happy holidays
Walls have holes in
Lets the cold in
Always

Kissing my wife on her gingerbread lips
But I'd rather flesh
We can fetch canes, but they go to my hips
This life is a total mess then

A gargantuan fist plunges
Through the many sponges
Crumbs and thumbs plummet around me
Panic and manic unrest
Mankind succumb to their greed as they
Pull my eyes out and chew on my chest

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