Making Roadkill

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 bloodymost 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