Inside the house
It's awfully quiet
And far too dark
To be of any use

A little girl
While her hands and feet
Were left to burn

Is everything
Unless you think it isn't

A man who thought that he was right
And preceded
Jack the Ripper
In acts of misogynistic violence

Inside this house
There aren't any spiders
Or any rats
Even though it's very old

Waxworks from the daytime
Make you very uncomfortable
And what is and isn't real
Isn't your concern

They tortured a man
Until he hanged himself
And they kicked the body down the stairs
And nobody knows where it's buried

They progress through this place
To something
I don't know about

And I will not say
A single word.