Three dogs know how to bite

A chunk of foul and filthy night

Comes to bear upon my soul

The loss of my fine chili bowl

Upon the legs of those three dogs

A moon shines full above the bogs

Onto your face with luminexcence

Is a vile thing of putrescence

Demon wings of ages past

Alight on things that will not last

The night will show these missing

From the view of that man pissing.