How young they are!

And how beautiful!

Yes we are favoured. Ony too often criminals are old and ugly. Too seldom do we have the joy, the exquisite delight of ruining what is beautiful.

See, they're stretching, sighing, on the brink of waking. And now my sisters, flies my sisters, let's sing the sinners from their sleep.

We shall settle on your rotten hearts like flies on butter;
Rotten hearts, juicy, luscious hearts;
We are the flies, the suckers of pus;
All your life we will be with you;
Until we make you over to the worms.