In Winnebago land,
There ruled a skeleton king
With his fleshy, pretty queen.
And in the night
When the lights were gone,
They'd go into their Winnebago
And preform unspeakable deeds.
Flesh and bone should never dance together.
The dead and living should never mingle;
But here was there even more!
May Day of the dead and damned.
Only the queen still had a heart beat.
Such were their acts,
Their dances and contortions!
Try if you will to flee,
They will surely capture you,
Bury you in a coffin with eyes,
To watch their train wreck of decay.
Volital mesh it is.
The hot smell of rot
As each convulsion is fufilled.
Eyes clenched tight,
In vain.
Now simply to see without seeing.
Pulsating, open sores of love,
Moving to the beat of the Queen's heart.
