Why have you brought me here? Cant go back there. We must return, he'll kill you, his eyes will find us there. Christine, don't say that, those eyes that burn.
BACKSTAGE. (BUQUET mysteriously appears, a length of fabric. serving as a cloak, and a piece of rope as the Punjab. lasso. He is showing off to the BALLET GIRLS).
Past the point of no return, no backward glances. The games of make believe are at an end. Past all thought of if or when, no use resisting. Abandon thought and let the dream descend.
Like yellow parchment is his skin. A great black hole serve's as the nose that never grew. You must be always on your guard. Or he will catch you with his magical lasso.