The Lord of Husks and Rinds

A puppy with it’s eyelid in a vice, let out a moan, which no science could
defend against
The songbird to the cellphone tower crashed
Wrote out a bill for which reason could not recompense
We are like them in a way
Just the error of our day
Like that scientific ape
It’s not for us to escape
They’re sealing up the hive
For the lord of husk and rinds
Hard shell, tough sell
Too old, too cold
We are like them in a way, said a sanguinary toad from his perch above an open
grave
But he never got his say, cast down under a rock for the spiders to investigate
He’s not swimming in the sea
It’s a test facility
It’s an interesting clime
In the city Anaheim
Not gold, I’m sold