To whom it may concern: I'm born at last!
I'm in my world, my tranquility
and the smell of my flesh annoys me
and the scabs on my scales tend to itch
and my eyes sometimes liquity
so at times it's hard to see
I crawl upon a dead dog, lying on the edge of a pool of blood
I watch as flies encircle the carcass, and the dog, we make love
and the cries from the dark scare me
and the insects in my flesh tend to itch
and the sky is always black
and in the dog my body bleeds
To whom it may concern: at last I'm dying!
Leaving my world, my place of rest
and the beasts without flesh sing to the dark
and their music is the love for hate
and I die, and I live, so I may die again
and when I wake I've found tranquility