Work Text:
If you’ve ever known fear
Then perhaps you can tell
That this tale that you’ll hear
Is my personal Hell.
See there once was a gent,
A connoisseur with taste,
To whom many were sent
To get treatment, post-haste.
He had many medals,
And references to spare,
But within his own walls
He’d no feelings to share.
He seemed to be normal,
Was well learned and well-read
If a little bit formal,
‘Least he had thoughts in his head.
But buried deep within
Was his secret so dear;
His own personal sin
Was to taste others fear.
For years thus he travelled
With a smile stained red,
Cops tried to unravel
What went on in his head.
And today he still roams
While I’m locked here inside
Getting into locked homes
Just to dampen Jack’s pride.
I wish that they’d listened
‘Cause I did try to tell
The doctor they christened
Would bring nothing but Hell