I like turning straw into gold.

I like the look of wonder in their eyes when they open the door and see me sitting amongst all the shining. I know I'm not the one who does it, but I think you couldn't do it if I didn't need you to. You need my need. Like an addict, you come night after night to spin for me. Your only hope is to outmatch my need. So you demand more and more from me, desperate that one night I will not pay and you will be free, and now you want my child.

But I like turning straw into gold.

And now I know your name.