Scream and scratch at the top of his coffin.
Ruff Bark
It's made from scratch
A skinned baby in a bag of salt.
The pool doesn't scream when you go in dry.
Eight. And how old will you be on your next birthday Ten. Oh I don't think that's possible. Oh yes it is - I'm nine today.
Clawing at the lid of her coffin.
On account of the coffin.
A little stiff.
They were all born on holidays.
In his sleavies!
