My mother was a drop of blood.
My father was a knife.
I thank you for this blessed meal
And new purpose in life.
Tonight I am your humble guest,
I hope you understand,
They compel me to prove my worth
With Father in my hand.
I ask of you to take up arms,
I beg of you to try.
I want to show you all I've got,
Whoever dies will die.
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I kept my own separate notes during the investigation, and from 1979 to 1983 I would imagine the man I called the Witch of...
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