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
I haven't read all of them because it's a Friday night and I have plans, so don't shoot me if it turns out some of them are more evil than others. But it's all in there, if you are looking for background material for your next Kafka novel.