Stubby fingers, like chicken fingers on your cheek
And you move to push them away. They're turning
Into claws now, sharp as needles, thin as silk
Against your skin. You could say he's driving
Pointed pencils right into you. You could say
He's prodding at your soul, he's flying through your blood
Like some Tasmanian devil on a roll. And when he
Takes away the fingers, he takes away your life.