A tin of people, crammed tightly in.
People of different gender and status.
Some larger and some others thin.
Leaves one wondering, where's Gattiss?
Some of the wardrobes population keep;
A dark secret concealed in hidden past
But he has returned, revenge he will reap
Savour the thrill of flame, no rushing fast
He'll pour the petrol and lock the door
But will he complete the task at hand
Such horror told with no visual gore
He had always seemed so very bland
