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At her word uttered down the stairs I fluttered I fluttered through the kitchen door I cut on the lights as I went in the door Not much more the clock above the entrance door what would it implore, the hand moving more It tick-tocked just as before It showed 4 am, ust as before Just this, not much more As I stumbled upon the pantry door I saw the box, the one beyond the stocks As I pulled open the pantry door it sat at the front of the door Just this, not much more There sat the box in store the picture on it looked at me, for it could see the very writing on the wall it did tour I would have to stir some more With the milk did I pour in the blackened pot, the whole milky lot with the ox I opened and the packet tore the pudding, the pudding in the packet tore Just this, not much more For the spoon I did grasp forelore moving the pot to the stove, the pudding gave a rove The brown mass looked at me sore The liquid mass looked at me sore Quoth t he pudding, Stir some more. For the custard's words did bore Those words hypnotized, they demonized The word spoke just as Angelica before The pudding sat, just as Angelica before Quoth t he pudding, Stir some more As this, my wife came imploring She asked Stu, what are you doing? I told her, Making chocolate pudding. It's 4 in them morning, why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? she asked, I continued stirring Because lve lost control of my life.' my voice did soar So looked on my wife, I was really stirring my life My thought I did stir My thinking did stin Quoth t he pudding, Stir some more. My deep thoughts it did implore My possible suicide, did indeed conicide with the pudding that I stirred m with the pudding that I stirred m Quoth t ore ore he pudding, Stir some more.

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