Well there's a place in his blank, green eyes where things with fangs and sharp teeth hide. They say his glare will make your brightness blind; don't be afraid or be surprised. And he will swing with all his might into the trees with his knife. Sharpens the blade here on a steep incline, out in the rays of this pale moonlight.
The children have seen his soul and think they're who he's coming for.
So now in anger he'll swear he's right. His arms are flailing; he'll fight for what's contained in this great big lie and what remains now of his life. And he is strangled with breathing right, with bulging veins and bloodshot eyes. With human language at distant sight, he'll find his way out into the night.
But when this moonlight's full, he'll know what he's been longing for. We're sure he'll lose control, but we won't be around to know. We won't be around to know.
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