Spirit of the Night Soil Man 1

Spirit of the night Spirit of the night soil man Spirit of the night soil man is awake Spirit of the night soil man is abroad, Here, the emerging mystery, more a sinister from a dungeon, When twilight sat on sad rooftops, Lurking eyes, creeping limbs in the damp backyards, To Loo looking gunt in the gloomy moonlight Where broiling broths in chamberpots and bedpans are emptied. A structure of planks led upstairs Ushering to crouch in a crouching mode, Over hot hole on the pedestial, Displaying buttocks lob over poe Began the winced and windy screeching sirocco, Screaming complaining bass and solo guitars, Can be irksome when catch unawares Of habitual sacrificial ritual of defecating, On other hand, when afflicted in fora, Go gawky limping along all the way Any convenience found, Unleashed mixed vortex of dark diarrhoea, Ascendancy of curl buxom python laid, Windy circular terra-cotta thin rope And from top, short brief beef cake grenade drop, After, some bruisers clean with dry cardboard Or old newspapers that headline "Hard Times" All add up sure riches to wealth, Well soughted out after in heap chest.