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Go back eight years; you're sixteen... What do you see? What do you |
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feel? A classroom..Yes..and what are they whispering? They're whispering |
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about you? Why? Laughing, no, no, go back eight years. You're eight, |
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where are you? In your bedroom? Yes, in your bedroom. Shadows? Shadows |
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touching you, your head forced to one side. Tell me about the black dog |
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and tell me ... no, no, go back eight years. What do you see? What do you |
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feel? And you don't want the white light, why? Why? No, no, go back a |
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hundred, two hundred...FIVE hundred years. What do you see? What do you |
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feel? Your hands are tied, yes, and they're throwing things. Fire, |
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you're burning, you're burning. No, go back a thousand...A million |
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years. What do you see? What do you feel? Nothing, nothing at all. |
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Tell me, is it better that way? |
