
Drinking children's tears,
Thinking of the blood I spilt
In my formative years.
Sitting in a graveyard,
Chewing on a bone,
Thinking of his frightened face
When I found him alone.
Sitting in a graveyard,
With a bloody chin,
Thinking what a ripping time
Was had by me and him.
( , Sat 2 Jul 2005, 8:30, archived)