The houses lay flat on its stomach on the ground.
Slumbering like giant spiders.
In the desolate dark outdoors,
All beasts cowered in terror,
Frightened by the Succubus,
And they barked a sad, paled blue bark:
Nw-arrh Tw-arrh Ywah

The blades of sorghum
Whipping in the wind.
Listen. Hush.
That barking at the other side of the road,
That's a dog howling.
Nw-arrh Tw-arrh Ywah

'Is the dog feeling sick, mommy?'
'No, he's feeling hungry, My child.'
From afar, in the shadow of the faint lighting from the skies,
The dog observed his enemies.
From the remotest reaches old, old memory. Genetic. .
Instinctual memory.
He felt the presence of our pitiful forbears.

The dog's soul paled in fear,
And he let out a long howl in the night's shadowy road:
Nw-arrh Tw-arrh Ywah

'Is the dog feeling sick, mommy?'
'No, he's feeling hungry, child.'