Satan Devours His Child

Sprinkle flowers on a slaughterhouse bed
Go to the nethers with a bucket of lead
Down to the well made out of mire and mash
Feel the heat from the earth rise
And eyes from the ground flash
Hands pinching in some cold flesh
And in the dim light
Devouring his child

Distorted mirrors in a rotten old shack
Some bones are crumbling only to crack
Look at the image cast on a wall of decay
The roaches eat through the anterior wall
Someone trembles now in dismay
Feet stepping on the moulded floor
And sitting in the mould
Devouring his child

Chase the moon into the gloomy old woods
A shadow rises from the withered monkshoods
Jumps after life on its way down the well
Crashes hard at the bottom
A bundle under its arm yells
With disregard for all life
And heaving the bundle
Devouring his child