Cretin

Making Roadkill

Cretin


Shambling down the roadside 
Cheering as he goes 
A manic, flailing cretin 
In filthy, tattered clothes 
Dead things are his playmates 
He takes them in his care 
Clutching limbs and tails 
He whips roadkill through the air 

He uses them in puppet shows 
Hung around his shack 
Stuffs his backpack full of fur 
Some bloody-most are flat 
Tied onto his belt of rope 
A skirt of sunbaked stink 
Running out of furry friends 
He strokes their pelts and thinks 

Setting makeshift traps 
He titters and he claps 
Birdies, fish, and rats 
Are crammed in burlap sacks 

[Guitar solo: Olivo] 

He drags the critters to the street 
Waits for cars to pass 
Then throws them at the tire wells 
It kills them very fast 
Sometimes lucky animals 
Scurry past unharmed 
Cretin screams and gives up chase 
But catching them is hard 

Drags them from their dens 
Yanks them from their pens 
They bite his scabby hand 
He tosses them again 

[Guitar solo: Martinez] 

One day running after prey 
A stormy winter day 
An orange van hits the man 
And breaks both of his legs 
He drags himself back to his fort 
Despite the biting pain 
And wraps himself in animals 
Roadkill that he made