The Ballad of Jane Doe - Ride the Cyclone: The Musical
Some might say we're released, pushing daisies, deceased. But we all know the worms must be fed. There's just one lingering fear. Oh my soul, is it here? Or is it rotting somewhere with my head? Oh no soul, and no name and no story, what a shame. Cruel existence was only a sham? Oh Saint Peter, let me in! You must know where I've been. Won't you tell me at last who I am?
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