Young pretty bodies in the night Nobody can hear their bodies drop You see it's only night when the birds Go to cry so you can feel the wind behind in each flap of wings As pretty bodies lie in the night as the moonshines little truth Beaks open wide to the sky and screech no sound is heard that's taken Young pretty bodies don't move but they do preform until it's to late Claws scratch flesh in shadows as last breathes are passed in the middle of the night