The monstrous visage of a deaths-head moon
leers out from beyond the rampart heights.
Leathery wings soar off in sudden fright,
as a graveled shout roars out, stupid bitch
you left them dead in blood-drenched beds! Remind
me please how our marriage is not a curse.
At this moment what would make it worse?
Look you practically begged for that first bite.
I am a caterwauling catamount.
And you are an evil undead vampire,
a bloodsucking fiend that I am so tired
of cleaning up her mess after she feeds
rotten to the core blood-whore. I am the Count,
I have the money, I turned you, I rule,
you grovel got it! Yes, I know I'm cruel.
You my dear are about to lose your head!
The cold hard stone of the castle crumbles
marble statues fly at Count Drack.
Time grapples within itself, pillars crack.
Until finally madness calls out feed me.
I could eat. I don't feel like Pizza Hut.
Their drivers are fat they all give me gas.
We could take the hearse out over the pass,
hunt peasant, and have a moonlight picnic.
It's settled then we're eating out tonight?
No leather does not make you look fat dear.
The red outfit with spikes? Very fearsome.
Yes pussycat you can make the first kill.