Shambling down the roadside 
 
 Cheering as he goes 
 
 A manic, flailing cretin 
 
 In filthy, tattered clothes 
 
 Dead things are his playmates 
 
 He takes them in his care 
 
 Clutching limbs and tails 
 
 He whips roadkill through the air 
 
  
  He uses them in puppet shows 
 
 Hung around his shack 
 
 Stuffs his backpack full of fur 
 
 Some bloody-most are flat 
 
 Tied onto his belt of rope 
 
 A skirt of sunbaked stink 
 
 Running out of furry friends 
 
 He strokes their pelts and thinks 
  
 
 Setting makeshift traps 
 
 He titters and he claps 
 
 Birdies, fish, and rats 
 
 Are crammed in burlap sacks 
  
 
 [Guitar solo: Olivo] 
  
 
 He drags the critters to the street 
 
 Waits for cars to pass 
 
 Then throws them at the tire wells 
 
 It kills them very fast 
 
 Sometimes lucky animals 
 
 Scurry past unharmed 
 
 Cretin screams and gives up chase 
 
 But catching them is hard 
  
 
 Drags them from their dens 
 
 Yanks them from their pens 
 
 They bite his scabby hand 
 
 He tosses them again 
  
 
 [Guitar solo: Martinez] 
  
 
 One day running after prey 
 
 A stormy winter day 
 
 An orange van hits the man 
 
 And breaks both of his legs 
 
 He drags himself back to his fort 
 
 Despite the biting pain 
 
 And wraps himself in animals 
 
 Roadkill that he made