He watches his prey
As it walks away
Following it with his eyes
His mind is realing
Oh my, he's thinking
Run away, run away
He smiles, he waits
And tries his little tricks
Towards the end
He goes in after it quick
But as he does
It shies away
And so he must wait
To find another prey
Greeting Countess good stuff - let it out
Rising from the ashes
the Queen will make her thrown
atop skulls, ribs and moans...