Holidays of the museum of wax,
Women’s heads on the pretty corpses.
Little child in the little box,
 [bad word] to museum of wax.

Mystery of the secret skill, 
Sculptor-doctor was so ill.
I hear the mechanical piano sounds, 
Wax women to give birth the children flowers.

He molds and you feel you burn in [bad word]  
Your skin is plastic but not your brain.
Now you are models and your eyes are from glass,
Forever immortal, forever dead.

December, 2007