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Palehorse
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Bird Feed
Perfect, perfectly visceral
Streets of the viscera
Watch where you step
Greasy, gristly cadavers
Left for the scavengers
Watch where you step
Red and white
And a touch of blue
Droppings of a cannibal
Watch where you tread
Across from each other and on every corner
Cottages of the damned
Marrow red and off white
And a touch of bruise
Do you think they can taste it?
The fact that they're related?
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What a grisly avenue
I hope you're not wearing
Your very best, finest shoes
Pavement poachers
Highway, high street vultures
Liveried in colours, bromodic and dullen
Where's your sense of shame
Where's your sense of shame
Spewing forth from the mouths of doves
Let blood bleed
Open your beak
Let blood bleed
Salty and battered
Freckled and spattered
Let blood bleed
Club-footed red, faeces white, come hither blue
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