here is little Effie`s head whose brains are made of gingerbread when judgment day comes God will find six crumbs stooping by the coffinlid waiting for something to rise as the other somethings did- you imagine his surprise bellowing through the general noise Where is Effie who was dead? -to God in a tiny voice, i am may the first crumb said whereupon its fellow five crumbs chuckled as if they were alive and number two took up the song might i`m called and did no wrong cried the third crumb, i am should and this is my little sister could with our big brother who is would don`t punish us for we were good; and the last crumb with some shame whispered unto God, my name is must and with the others i`ve been Effie who isn`t alive just imagine it I say God amid a monstrous din watch your step and follow me stooping by Effie`s little, in (want a match or can you see?) which the six subjective crumbs twitch like mutilated thumbs; picture His peering biggest whey coloured face on which a frown puzzles, but I know the way- (nervously Whose eyes approve the blessed while His ears are crammed with the strenuous music of the innumerable capering damned) -staring wildly up and down the here we are now judgment day cross the threshold have no dread lift the sheet back in this way here is little Effie`s head whose brains are made of gingerbreadSourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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