ANNABELLE: 
Ghosts of dreams, ghosts of memory 
that will not leave or lay in quiet 
Ghosts that cry about the life 
you let go by 

Ghosts of pasts of little girls who 
learned their math, grasped their facts 
Tried their best to reach success 
just as they were asked 

The girl learns to hide, deep inside 
of fractions and facts and worlds of math 
long lonely land she can understand 
Annabelle in Numberland 

You could have been my angel 
been my angel. been my angel and been with me 
Could have been my angel 
been my angel, been my angel and rescued me 

Ghosts of love you never knew, you 
just [bad word] like well penned plays 
Ghosts of scenes, embraces, things 
you only knew in dreamt up days 

Ghosts of frowns for little girls when 
friends came round to waste her time 
Ghosts of creeds, rebukes received 
Children are not what achievers need 

Fractions and maths, [bad word]  
equations and facts who always stand 
by as you go your road alone 
Annabelle in Numberland 

You could have been my angel 
been my angel, been my angel and been with me 
You could have been my angel 
been my angel, been my angel and rescued me 

Ghosts of me, ghosts of who 
i could be and been with you 
Ghosts of dreams, of who you thought 
you'd one day be when you grew up 

Ghosts of breath, of little girls 
who promised, stressed they'd be their best 
Ghosts of days that fade away 
as failure holds your hand til Death 

And deep in the place you escape where 
theorems and thoughts your hopes and plans 
all are derailed and then you failed them 
Annabelle in Numberland 

Liquids and labs, fractions and facts, 
are all you had, all that you understand 
and as you age all that remains with 
Annabelle in Numberland 

You could have been my angel 
Been my angel, been my angel and been with me 
You could have been my angel 
My angel, been my angel and rescued me 
My angel, my angel 
My angel and been with me 
My angel, my angel 

(Annabelle takes an axe and destroys the doll.)