Sta.sh
The puppeteer
One and two,
he's walking around.
He's searching for the little one's.
Three and four,
he's a vampire
sucking out their precious souls.
Five and six,
he goes right,
collecting their precious souls.
Seven and eight,
they are awake,
his puppets are moaning.
Nine and ten,
you here him come,
to get to his precious dolls.
He springs the souls from his bag,
plants them into every doll,
a new doll face, so pretty,
the limbs start moving,
the eyes roll at him,
glowing lovely in their bright red,
a new order of the puppeteer,
“Bring her! Get the girl, my beloved children!”
