there's something dead,
under my bed.
it's two am.
it could be a rat,
a bat or a bird.
or possibly all three.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
and its starting to smell.
i cant get to sleep,
so up i get,
and get ready for war.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
and as i suspected.
a head, a foot,
a dried up *****,
what's left of a little snack.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
there is a graveyard,
of critter corpses,
of feather and fur,
collecting in the bin.

there's something dead,
under my bed.
i dont even need to look.
the deep red drops,
on the floor,
lead directy to ****** scene.