We sing the song of the seven children and the father who so lovingly murdered them. The chorus is written in stone. The verses are written in radio waves. We reach. We pull. We pluck a verse for you, sweetling - always for you.
Madness string 43310
Think about... er... moles. Yes. Nice moles. With velvety snouts and soft fur. Happy moles. Gamboling in a tunnel. I'm in my happy place. With moles.