There is something about the nature of the beast
The endless need to consume and feast
It does matter what the breed
There is still that all consuming need
It swells up from deep within
Till on the full moon it splits the skin
Once a month the beast burst forth
The moon light gives him his rebirth
Like a demon locked up in a cage
He burst out with white hot rage
His claws are as sharp as razor blades
He'll carve up your flesh like a jack-o'-lantern
His gleaming fangs should also give you concern
For to him you are but a snack
So you better run, and don't look back