There was a crooked man, who walked a crooked mile
He found a crooked sixpence, upon a crooked stile
He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse
And they all lived together, in a little crooked house
Then he had a crooked thought, why is crookedness my lot?
Must all I always be crooked? and not allowed to be not?
The crooked man would cry, and he didn’t know why
Dead Space - Necromorphs (2/3) - requested by forerunnerr