‘tis only right,
but we ain’t got time
for a proper burial.
Even a cairn
of unbridled possibility
stacking up to cover up
bodies
we pray you’ll never have to see.
We don’t want no animals
poking ‘round the remains.
The scent of fresh blood on the air
will drive ‘em down the valley
…and we want to be long gone by the time they get here.