The confession

What do you know?

What are you talking about?

Who are you, anyway?

Who are you?

All of you?

Criminals!

Probably proud of it, too - that you can crack safes or are cat burglars or can cheat at cards!

All of these things, I think, you could just as easily give up if you'd learned something useful or if you had jobs or if you weren't such lazy prigs!

But I?

Can I...?

Can I do anything about it?

Have I not this curse on me?

The fire? The voice? The torment?

So, you're saying that you HAVE to kill.

Always always I have to roam the streets and I always sense that someone is following me.

It is me!

And I shadow myself!

Silently yet I still hear it!

Yes!

Sometimes I feel like I'm hunting myself down.

I want to run - run away from me!

But I can't!

I can't flee from myself!

Must... must take the path that it's urging me on and run... run!

Endless streets...

I want off! I WANT OFF!

And with me run the ghosts of the mothers and children.

They never leave!

They are always present!

Always!

Always! ALWAYS!
Except when I'm doing it when I'm...
And then I don't remember anything.
Then then I stand in front of a billboard and read what I've done, and read and read.

What have I done?

But I don't remember anything!
But who's going to believe me?
Who knows what's inside of me?
How it... cries out and screams inside when I have to do it...
Don't want to. Must!

DON'T WANT TO! MUST!

And then a voice cries out.
I CAN'T LISTEN ANYMORE!

HELP!

I CAN'T!
I can't!

I can't!