Here is my grains for blending voices   Bigs among his mind is flying   All of this was quite accepted   Now their skin they were affected      Just on eleven and now she's going on twelve   No one can see      She must be one in hundred millions   A mind so totally torned and wreckful   What have you done with this poor girl   You made her believe that nothing's sacred   A conscience is lost      Voices tell me I am in need   See the people in pain and to bleed   For nigh a trice they never say   A knife can kill and now she is dead      Just on eleven and now she's going on twelve   No one can see      She must be one in hundred millions   A mind so totally torned and wreckful   What have you done with this poor girl   You made her believe that nothing's sacred   A conscience is lost