There is ink in my veins, don't you know.
That my dearie, is what makes them blue.
That is why the lines are there.
I must get the ink out.
So I
Take my
HARMLESS little KniFe and cut the ink away.
But OH MY, my dear, the ink doesn't like me,
It wont come out creamy and blue.
Maybe I CUT too soft,
Because the ink comes out of my arm RED.
And tsk, tsk, my dear,
You're supposed to find me ink,
And
You know how I get UPSET
When I can't write anymore.
So my dear, it's a good thing that you made me
Not be able to write,
Because now,
I can just take your ink.
So no, no, don't pull at the ROPES my dear,
I'll only take some ink.