Bang down the heads of Wales
and coffin nails;
The rats come to feed and bats
bleed and He is unsatisfied with
your speed!
Rushing the fools tiding the mules
pulling to and brew the news;
Cain has arrived, and take with
him to the Hive if the day to Him
not pleased;
Job well done before the setting
sun, left no mark for the maker
either, but whence left a cut on
the heel of the mutt and the
fog had lifted away;
Tisket and tasket and handwoven
basket, a casket to carry them all;
Cain the maker had come to take
her from good dreams, once and
for all.
 
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