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On his throne of bones and fur
The Collector is quietly seated,
Prepared for the scene about to occur.
In the arena of velvet and dust
Awaiting the morbid unknown,
Wildcats in cages, sawdust and rust.
In his eyes pure agitation,
In his mind a joy,
Frightful spite and fascination.
Cats released in perfect fear,
One attacks the other.
Set off the scratching, rip and tear!
Flesh torn, blood and gore.
Shrieks through loathsome night
Makes the viewer call for more.
This is the utmost atrocity
Feeding his foul curiosity
