Words of the Constant
WendyNeither a house nor a home.
WendyNot as sweet as Abigail.
WendyRed as heart's blood.
WendyIts flesh is far more bloody now.
WendyThe life they contain is a mystery.
WendyHow do you do?
WendyHow do you do?
WendyIt's... a turnip.
WendyThe turnip is now cooked.
WendyThe life they contain is a mystery.
WendyWe can grind it down into flour.
WendyThe life they contain is a mystery.
WendyHe's wandering mindlessly, oblivious to his fate.
WendyHe is safely in my embrace.
WendyFine. It's adorable.
WendyI'm too big to fall down there.
WendyIt's closed up. No one is falling down there, now.
WendyIt didn't cook well.
WendyIt is not as edible as it looks.
WendyI guess it plays a type of burial song.
WendyIt's like a grave for my things.
WendyYou're making me angry.
WendyDeath by rabbit antler. Cute.
WendyIt's in a foul mood.
WendyI should take a closer look.
WendyHe seems friendly enough.
WendyI liked jumping in puddles with Abigail.
WendyWhat fun is rain if you're not getting wet?
WendyDoes that mean sunshine is dead, too?
WendyIt measures cloudiness. I like when it's dreary.
WendyA whole bunch of cooked vegetables. Riveting.
WendyThis is just for shaving.
WendyI wondered if I'd ever hear that song again.
WendyIt brightens my mood, if only for a while.
WendyDoes this music lift your spirits, Abigail?
WendyDoes this music lift your spirits, Abigail?
WendyDoes this music lift your spirits, Abigail?
WendyDoes this music lift your spirits, Abigail?
WendyI wonder if father still listens to his record collection.
WendyA song of sweet foreboding.
WendyI wonder if father still listens to his record collection.
WendyLove it.
WendyI wonder if father still listens to his record collection.
WendyI wonder if father still listens to his record collection.
WendyRed like my heart's blood.
WendyA light to guide me.
WendyNow Wolfgang won't get "lost" when I invite him to play.
WendyWhat lies within?
WendyA mushroom after my own heart.
WendyAll is malleable.