- Vol. 05
- Chapter 11
We had to grow up overnight, Let go of our favourite things. The dolls went first, battalions of Pink into the incinerator... Black tarry smoke poured from The chimneys, made us cough And gag and cry at our losses. There were two hundred girls Screaming as if it were their skin on fire.
Those who could play instruments Formed an orchestra, Used breathing apparatus Like fire fighters, Crushed the cries with symphonies And bits of opera, Hid behind masks to save Themselves.