Disposing of the Body






An old-fashioned face, a relic


The top of his head, monastic


I detected a glimmer of grimness


A creep with an air of coldness




There was a hint of horror


He refused to look in a mirror


And when he passed near a window


I saw no trace of a shadow




His behaviour aroused suspicion


His looks, his moods in addition


He never talked, was unspoken


Or farted by the same token




But he's there, all over the place!


I'm sure he's from outer space


Kill him and bind him in chains


But what about the remains?






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