“How much would it cost, to steal someone’s soul

To kill it with terror, chop it up whole

Slice it and Dice it and cover with cheese

Feed it to crocodiles and ugly beasts?

How much would it cost to kill someone’s dreams?

To tie it up, struggling, muffling screams

Strung up, wrong-side up, Life pouring down

Shred into pieces and sold by the pound

How much would it cost, including the tip?”

“Nothing sire. Nothing at all. Just a cup of spit and a bent paper-clip.”