You have changed it and made it so fancy…it cries for the past and what used to be in the time when I roamed its halls…when I ran from room to room imagining the life with the rich occupants there…and now I watch and wait for the day when the young blood will be mine again…

(The house) is turning on me it is coming after me…I am in charge of it…Let the young blood play again like I once did…Stop changing it and let it alone