When the eyes of the winged thing
Stare into your empty soul
You won't feel loved.
When the talons of the winged thing
Grapple you like a big man
And throw you to the ground like a salty pancake
The worms will not befriend you.
When the winged thing bellows at you
Like a cowboy on an elephant
You will probably cry like a snowman under the sun.
So before you melt away
Whistle a tune,
Slow and simple enough to last,
And cling to that moment,
Wrap your eight arms around it
Like an arachnid,
And with your final strength,
Poop a web.
Ahoy Elephant cowboy! Ahoy!
This vessel is for thee!