So you lick that crazy flesh, babe

And catch the feathers as they fall.

Bone Fabric for your footfall,

A spilintered sound of hushed violence.

Curtains drawn to hide the gaze

Of shuttered minds with eyelids pale

From behind that gauzey tomb.

"This is the life," said Joseph.

As he watched the corrosive wheel

Of time rack up its tacky web.

"We are all bugs in the end,"

He grinned with toothless gums.

"All trapped in the same spiders web."