A fly, who was once a maggot
Told me of a story
One of breaking bad habits
And it was kind of gory

The fly he said His name
Had always been the same
But his body had been different
Deep with in he changed.

He said once my flesh was juicy
a pale color I appeared
and in the flesh I would eat the flesh
For those who death had neared.

Eating they decay I made the world a better place
But I no longer eat much as a fly
So I must breed more of my race
We must multiply

Our young, Our youth,
they rid the world of corruption
with out us the dead would
scatter like an eruption

A thousand carcasses
No one to like them clean.