Your eyes aren't open, Little Bee.
Papa, why can't I hear?
Your ears are to small, dear.
Papa, why can't I feel my fingers?
They're not touching anything, Bingers.
Papa, why can't I taste your cake?
You're not eating it, sweet-cake.
Papa, why can't I smell Mommy's rose?
It's not near your little nose.
Papa, why couldn't I live?
Mommy and I decided to have an abortion, Biv.
